Sitting atop a mountain of dragon and human corpses, a wrinkled, white-haired old man let out a weary sigh as the voice of the system—one he had long grown to dread—echoed once more in his mind.
[You have slain the Primordial Dragon, Tiamat—the Mother of All Dragons.]
[You have acquired the Unique Artifact: Tears of the Goddess.]
---
『Tears of the Goddess』
◆ Artifact Grade: Unique
◆ Artifact Description: A relic said to have formed from the first tears shed by a benevolent constellation after witnessing the first murder in the history of the universe.
◆ Embedded Skill: True Wish
---
"Sigh… I guess everything I endured to obtain this item was worth it," the old man muttered. "Only one Unique Artifact can exist at a time, after all."
He gazed down at the glowing artifact resting in his palm, its gentle radiance casting a soft, golden light across the battlefield. Somehow, amidst the carnage and silence, its warmth felt almost… forgiving.
"…Then why do I feel so empty?"
[The Constellation Clown Who Laughs Maniacally says you got exactly what you deserved.]
A bitter smile tugged at the old man's lips as he lowered his gaze to his weathered hands.
"I suppose you're right, Clown. I really am just a piece of human garbage."
[The Constellation Clown Who Laughs Maniacally wholeheartedly agrees with your statement.]
A dry chuckle escaped the old man as he spoke, his eyes narrowing with a mix of regret and resolve.
"I didn't want to watch them die, you know… not after everything we went through together. But I couldn't just let them come after this artifact."
He paused, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air.
"In the end… this world only rewards those who put themselves first."
[The Constellation Clown Who Laughs Maniacally is intrigued by your reasoning.]
The old man's gaze drifted toward the crimson horizon, its colors bleeding like fresh wounds across the sky.
"You know, Clown… in my youth, I wasn't like this. I had dreams. I believed in justice. I was… a good man."
His voice cracked slightly, betraying a vulnerability he rarely showed.
"But after my parents died in that tragic car crash when I was in my twenties, everything crumbled. My heart… it just broke."
[The Constellation Clown Who Laughs Maniacally falls eerily silent.]
He swallowed hard, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the artifact tighter.
"I became obsessed—with power, with influence. So when the apocalypse came and dungeons started opening all across the globe, I already had the wealth and connections to not just survive… but thrive."
A bitter edge crept into his voice.
"But by that point, whatever shred of humanity I had left was already gone."
"I did everything to gain power—threatened, poisoned, assassinated. I killed people without hesitation… all for my own advancement."
"That's how I made it to my sixties, Clown. My strength, my fame, my success—they're all built atop a mountain of corpses."
His eyes darkened, heavy with loneliness.
"The people of this world call me the Sword Demon—not out of respect, but out of pure, unfiltered fear."
He paused for a moment, his shoulders sagging slightly.
"I'm lonely, Clown. Utterly alone. I can't trust anyone—because I know that the moment I show even the slightest bit of weakness, my allies—my so-called subordinates—will stab me in the back and claim my throne."
The wind stirred faintly, carrying the scent of blood and ash.
"Sigh… but I suppose that's just how things are in this apocalyptic hellscape."
[The Constellation Clown Who Laughs Maniacally starts to feel pity for you.]
"There's no reason for you to feel pity, Clown. I lived a life full of regrets, yes—but at least I lived it on my own terms."
"Even though I became a monster, I never once hesitated in my path—because I knew that hesitation breeds death."
He met the artifact's glow with steely eyes.
"And now that everyone who can oppose me is gone… I can finally wish for the one thing that I truly want: a life with no regrets."
[The Constellation Clown Who Laughs Maniacally wishes you luck on your next journey.]
The old man's lips twitched in a faint smile.
"Thank you, my dear friend. I know I never said it properly, but… thank you for being my constellation. For sticking with me all these years."
[The Constellation Clown Who Laughs Maniacally tells you to stop dragging it out and just make your wish.]
He chuckled dryly.
"Hah… always the tsundere, huh? Fine, I'll make my wish already."
[The Constellation Clown Who Laughs Maniacally falls silent—for the first time in years, left speechless by your words.]
---
『Embedded Skill: True Wish』
◆ Skill Description: Grants the artifact's bearer a single wish.
◆ Note: Can only be used once.
◆ Restriction: Cannot be consumed, duplicated, or altered.
---
The old man turned toward the artifact resting in his hand, its radiant core pulsing softly—almost like the heartbeat of a dying star. He gazed into its glow in silence. All around him, the battlefield held its breath. Not even the wind dared to stir.
"Originally, I planned to consume this artifact to exploit its embedded skill… but I suppose the system isn't that naive," the old man muttered under his breath.
His grip tightened around the artifact, his knuckles whitening with grim resolve.
"Sigh… it's time to make my wish."
As if responding to his voice, the artifact shimmered—its golden light spiraling upward in threads of luminescence. The glow twisted into a vortex of stars and celestial glyphs, each pulse heavy with divine authority.
Damon drew in a trembling breath. Time may have battered his body, but his voice still rang out—clear and resolute.
"I, Damon Kyriazis, invoke the power of the Tears of the Goddess. Take me back—to August 1st, 2018. Let me keep my memories… and this time, let me live a life without regrets."
The world held still.
Even the system hesitated.
[Processing request...]
Above him, the constellations flickered.
A familiar sound echoed in his mind—the Clown's laughter. Not mocking this time, but soft… almost like a quiet farewell.
[Request accepted. Adjusting the time stream...]
With a sudden flash, the artifact shattered into a thousand radiant shards, each fragment dancing around Damon's body, lifting him gently into the air.
His scars began to fade.
His wrinkles dissolved.
And the blood-soaked corpses below him crumbled into stardust, scattered by the breeze that had finally returned.
[Your wish has been granted.]
And then—
The world turned white.