Ch. 006: Welcome To The Closest Place To Hell (5): Dssal's Dilemma
"You've mistaken me for someone else," Kahrdan declared. "I am Kahrdan Purge Reinhardt, the ideal descendant of the noble Reinhardt line—and I will never join you."
'After all if I did, wouldn't I be a failure?'
Asren let out an irritated sigh, the kind that seemed to relay a message.
'Then just die.'
He lowered himself to allow a human to become his equal, yet the human dared to refuse.
Where else but here has this ever been heard of?
Asren hissed. He might just have to follow through.
As for the chill he felt.
Kahrdan definitely wasn't a hero; they were known to be extinct in the human race. His eyes must've deceived him; he could win this fight.
After all, it is not against the heroes of legend he heard of.
Asren slowly rose to his feet, his humongous height of twelve feet causing a stir amongst the crowd of 1st Level Bearers as a musk of dust rose.
In addition, Asren released the concealed killing intent he'd held back.
Mana, his arcane erupted from the medium of his black core, coiling and twisting around him, distorting his figure until he emerged in a new form—way smaller—and one that mimicked a young man, yet was anything but human.
Yes, clearly a demon.
Asren was ghastly, in his so-called humanoid appearance, he stood burly, around six feet tall, with absurdly broad shoulders. His skin was so pale it resembled the flesh of a corpse—only this living corpse bore vivid blue tattoos across his chest, arms, and face savagely. Every mark further branded him as something straight out of a nightmare.
However frightening as he looked, there was still a strange presentability to him.
One couldn't deny he wasn't too horrific in some way he seemed indeed attractive.
Asren's hair was short, pretty well-kept in contrast with Kahrdan's, a little wild color—sprayed pink—and his eyes, glowing gold, rimmed with sharp pink light, blazing with feral hunger.
Unlike when he was a wolf with no clothing, now he donned loose white trousers clinging to his waist, tied with a dark sash. In addition, black beads clinked faintly at his ankles and wrists—an accessory that laid mockery to a monk's discipline.
Barefoot, half-naked, and grinning, Asren stood as the embodiment of violence itself, wrapped in deceptive elegance.
"I'll make sure to devour you alive once you lose that stupid will of yours, arrogant little creature."
Asren's words dripped with irritation, clearly not letting it go, he adopted a precise stance.
He knew very well Kahrdan's personality.
His stance was not the type to be swayed with words, but Asren still attempted intimidation—after all, finding someone like him again would not be easy.
No, he wouldn't find another.
He must have Kahrdan, though he dared to reject. It had to be him—someone who would push him past his limits until Asren became a demon lord.
Asren's expression turned crazed, his muscles bulging with electricity as he sprinted toward Kahrdan like an obsessive madman.
"Come here, Kahrda—ann!"
HOW TO USE A WORLD'S APOCALYPSE
> > Dssal
'Come now.'
Meanwhile, on the same blood-soaked grounds of Lily, almost a hundred meters east, Dssal remained surrounded by the same wolves—only this time he stood with a rather idiotic expression considering all the blood and dead bodies around.
Are you serious?
Dssal's lips curled, his body quaking no more with fear but with joy—like an indebted man with a winning lottery ticket.
'Ha, haha....ahahaha yes!'
"Finally I'm saved, my God!" he muttered, his voice shaking with pure bliss.
Around him, the dire wolves that had once hungrily surrounded him instinctively backed away, shaken by the sheer presence he radiated.
Why?
A natural question comes easily, only this time if someone asked it, they would be stupid.
How could they not? Just moments ago, they witnessed their mighty leader who'd won countless duels of savagery fall without even one of them glimpsing the attack that felled him. Yet every one of them knew—without a shred of doubt—the one responsible for it stood before them: Dssal.
Even they concluded he wasn't sane.
Dssal grinned, ecstasy evident in his face. His eyes glinted, reflecting the translucent screen he gazed upon.
Regardless of means, he only intended to scare off the dire wolves, somehow, seconds after crippling the leader's vitality with his Eleven Sovereign Insight, the leader died of internal injuries—a bit too gory to look at, its blood convulsing and foaming in its mouth as the attack snowballed.
But all in all, the system rewarded him for it, so everything was fine.
Ting!
[Congratulations, brave one!]
You somehow defied all odds and successfully slayed a 3rd Level Dire Wolf leader despite being only a 1st Level Arcane Bearer yourself.
New Achievement Unlocked: Cross-Level Victory
Secret task clear.
Condition fulfilled: Enemy was 2 levels higher.
Additional rewards granted.
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[Reward Distribution ×2]
New Authority Granted: Time Dilatation (Mythical) – Perception and movement may be accelerated or decelerated beyond the natural flow of time, maximum ratio 800:1.
New Spell Unlocked: Blink (Heroic) – Grants user near instantaneous movement (within 0.1s) through the authority of Time Dilatation. Maximum range: 1 km.
Attribute Enhancements:
Strength +2
Endurance +3
Vitality +1
Arcana +10
New Mystic Attribute Unlocked: Mana
Mana Points +7
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"Sweet."
Truly it was.
Now even if there were more wolves to deal with, he could escape with his life.
But at the same time Dssal was wickedly disjointed with the fact he almost died.
'Whew, no way I'll let such a thing repeat.'
He resolved silently not to ever let a situation exist whereby he reached this point of helplessness again.
However, although he knew it wasn't likely, he beamed regardless of those thoughts.
He experienced mood swings.
His reward was definitely generous after all—no, even way beyond just generous—considering that this was Pantheon he was in.
One might find it strange.
Evidently, not only had he gained an authority, but it was Mythic grade, coming hand in hand with a Heroic-tier spell, plus some attribute point gains too. Even if it was expected since he did perform a cross-level kill, this was really too much.
Still, I'm not complaining.
Dssal's grin stretched wider, to the point he had to stop smiling because it started hurting. With this, though he was only at Slave Stage (1st level), he could confidently say escaping or beating anything slightly over Ordinare Stage (2nd Level) might not pose a problem.
He flicked a strand of his hair, reveling in his mock overpoweredness. It was clear he had become unrivaled in his level.
'Is this where the saying of soaring through the heavens came from?'
And yet, as he basked in that thought—thinking of countless cultivation protagonists who would envy his sudden leap in power—after getting his current predicament sorted, a different figure pushed into his mind.
Kahrdan Purge Reinhardt.
Dssal's smile twitched.
He wasn't around when he needed him as such, he was probably in battle.
His final battle
Unfortunately, according to the original gameplay, he was destined to die here today.
'Yeah, about that duck.'
And it all came down to priority allocation. The game he created needed someone's to die to introduce its hellish difficulty.
Kahrdan had low priority allocation, being the righteous one in this cruel game gimmick, his personality was shown to be that of a generic manga righteous protagonist—smart but less scheming.
Truth be told, Dssal, living in Pantheon now, didn't want him to die. He made a great pawn. And considering his new abilities, Dssal actually considered saving Kahrdan—after all, he would still head there regardless. But the problem was the nature of Kahrdan's death—it was sort of ominous.
In the old version of the game, Kahrdan had successfully defeated Asren, albeit with severe injuries, and later died in the last ten seconds of the survival quest when the Dire Wolf King suddenly appeared.
But in the newer updated version—the one Dssal had personally uploaded—Kahrdan and Asren were tied in strength, both suffering injuries, yet it always seemed like Asren was winning. Why? Because of his update, which gave Asren faster regeneration. And later, when the Dire Wolf King appeared, Kahrdan, without any plot armor for the reason stated above, would be forced to face both Asren and the Dire Wolf King, Volus, at the same time.
Resulting in his inevitable death.
If that happened, Dssal knew very well if he showed himself, he would be lucky to make it out alive, much less save Kahrdan—which clearly wasn't attractive if it meant risking his own life.
And that made the dilemma: to go or not to attempt to save, or not attempt to save. One path was easy, the other perilous.
For the first time since his overwhelming joy at receiving new abilities, Dssal grimaced.
He felt like his teenage years of doubt and dread came back to him again.
After everything, his survival had to come first—even if it meant Kahrdan would die. After all, Kahrdan was only ever meant to be a potential meat shield. And if this was truly his version of the game's events, then rushing in to save him would be like entering the lion's den for nothing worthwhile.
All that said, it wasn't actually impossible. With Blink, there was clearly a decent chance. But the implications of something going wrong were far too grievous. And if the worst-case scenario unfolded, he wasn't absolutely confident he'd make it out alive.
That was the key word certainty..
Dssal clenched his fist, his internal conflict piercing him like a dagger.
He knew how crucial his involvement would be to the plot.
The already retreating dire wolves surrounding him instinctively scattered, running for their lives, sensing the storm of displeasure that rolled off him.
He pressed his hand against his face, and a few teardrops fell from his eyes. Though he was more cold-hearted than most people, Dssal was still human—and deciding the life or death of someone who wouldn't hesitate to save him if given the same choices and worse conditions was a bit too hard for him.
"Damn."
He wiped a tear that rolled down half his face.
"However."
He will make the right choice.
Dssal's mind fogged as a voice that seemed to be his inner thought deftly whispered, "I'm sorry, duckling, really I am, but I might just have to watch you die here."
His expression became cold again as he began carefully traversing the plain, looking out for stray wolves and valuable wolf cores, his mind was still at odds with that final decision.
Was it made with morality? No.
But should he care? Not at all. He had to survive, after all.
That was the right choice, at least for him.
Even mercy in an apocalypse had a cost.
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HOW TO USE A WORLD'S APOCALYPSE
(END OF CHAPTER SIX)
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