Ch. 008: Harsh Reality
> > Kahrdan
In the accursed battlefield of Lily.
Volus swallowed the skull he chewed on but failed to appear any less threatening.
Rather, he became even more so— born from countless killings, murderous will radiated off the Wolf King's frame like heat off scorched earth.
Kahrdan sensed it immediately.
'Such power.'
He inherently felt thankful they hadn't been added to the earlier attack.
It was of Arcana— and not merely that. Its Arcane control was fundamentally different.
Making everything ominous.
Even by simply looking, anyone could conclude that its pressure wasn't mere killing intent.
'This is probably the advanced murderous will.'
And if so—
Kahrdan grimaced.
It was a spell so lethal it could kill every Bearer present without him lifting a finger to stop it. Aura conjoined with arcana, it carried a will of its own.
Once infused, the attack would never stop unless its target was destroyed.
Kahrdan gritted his teeth.
'I wonder now— if so, are my promises worthless against reality? Am I just weak.'
If Volus had that and intended to kill the Bearers, Kahrdan only just realized he couldn't stop him.
His hands shook greatly as he painstakingly raised his sword.
It was a deep burn to his pride— as even if Volus didn't target them and fought honorably, Kahrdan sincerely doubted he could restrain the beast for the two remaining minutes of the tide in his current condition.
However, he didn't have to yet.
While Kahrdan wrestled with dread, the Dire Wolf King intended to converse— notably with a condescending, almost narcissistic tone.
"Brave one, grace your name with this expert's ears."
If Dssal were here, he would've found it arrogant not just in voice, but in action too.
It wasn't known to Kahrdan— only Dssal, since he made the world— that the trial carried stakes for Volus as well. Granted, Asren hadn't needed to kill a single human. But Volus really did.
If the Dire Wolf King failed to slaughter at least a thousand humans before the trial's end, the Star Guide overseeing it would personally take his head for dinner.
That was the nature of the game— and the difference in roles between a mini-boss and the main boss.
Yet though Volus hadn't killed a single human, he still had the audacity to waste time on idle chatter.
"It's Kahrdan— m—"
"Kahrdan Purge Reinhardt?"
Kahrdan sharply seized the opportunity, raising his tone as if asking a question— baiting Volus into a reply.
'Arrogant fool. Every moment matters.'
Worse— Volus's arrogance had reason. To speak this leisurely here meant he truly held Kahrdan's life and death in his grasp.
---
'Gruhh.'
The murderous pressure in the air was palpable. Some Bearers, within a minute, coughed mouthfuls of blood just from standing within it.
Kahrdan glanced back at them nervously.
But then— from that same crowd, a young woman with blue hair mirroring darkness stepped forward.
Even in hell, she was still weaponizing her allure.
It was Isolde from Chapter Two. This time she fully released her own killing intent outward— pressing it against the Wolf King's like a wall against a tide.
How she did it, no one knew.
Following Isolde, two other males stepped forward one after another. The first— a wiry male with a mace, a close combatant. The second— burly, carrying a hammer and shield, likewise. Both radiated powerful arcana. From their demeanors alone, those two had probably met Dssal's criteria for potential meatshields— A grade or higher.
'Oh? Someone here can rebound 10 percent of my intent.'
Volus only grinned earnestly before he promptly licked his lips.
'Seems coming here now wasn't so bad after all.'
---
HOW TO USE A WORLD'S APOCALYPSE
> > Dssal
---
However—
At that moment, successive sounds were being made.
Step. Step. Step.
As he jogged across the moist, bloody soil of Lily, it wasn't pleasant.
Not only because of the renewed stench of rotting corpses that made it so bad he felt like vomiting.
But also because he recognized some of them.
'That's—'
Dssal held his nose.
He'd just walked past the corpse of specifically the woman he had hurled before— and the man who had carried her— both cuddling as their guts lay open to the air.
They would never see their families again.
"Tsk." He cursed without guilt. That was his fate for trying to save her when he couldn't guarantee his own safety— and her fate for being useless. Someone like her would never have survived the apocalypse in the first place.
He continued down the path east.
"Could curse more, but now… I've got to get a good view," Dssal muttered.
He was making his way toward where Kahrdan was fighting. He had no intention of interfering— only spectating. After all, it was obvious: the places that looked the most dangerous usually turned out to be the safest. And in this situation, that held true.
Yes, he was invincible within his tier, capable of cross-kills with efficiency— but that didn't mean recklessness.
The Wolf Tide's average wolf might only be Level 2 or 3, but averages meant nothing in Pantheon. The original gameplay had proven that. What if another wolf like Asren suddenly appeared? It was common knowledge that Pantheon wasn't built to be fair. Wandering blindly into the unknown was suicide.
So Dssal headed west— toward what he knew was the lion's den.
Of course, he wasn't in a rush. That area had been safe for a reason in the original gameplay. After Kahrdan's death, Volus— in respect for Kahrdan's ability to kill Asren— hadn't slaughtered the remaining Bearers there. And in the updated version, where Kahrdan fought two at once, it remained the safest zone. Kahrdan had held out until the tutorial nearly ended, dying only a minute too early.
If so, a minute was all Dssal needed. He was confident he could run for at least that long.
In fact, the later he arrived, the safer it became. Unsurprisingly, he slowed his pace to a deliberate walk— stalling.
Besides, he had another reason.
He wanted to finally check his status window in full. Eleven Sovereign Insight would reveal his stat potential and proficiencies for the first time.
And there was no better time than the present.
"Status window."
A flick— and a black window shimmered into existence. Dssal's eyes turned crimson as Sovereign Insight activated. Tiers appeared beside each stat.
---
[Status Window]
Name: Dssal Guengji
Age: 25
Trait: Methodical Spectator (Tier: Abnormal, Proficiency: N/A)
Class: N/A
Title: Feeble Wanderer— [You are trash worse than a dog]
Authorities: Time Dilution (Tier: Mythical, Proficiency: Crude I)
Disposition: 1st Level Arcane Bearer (Slave Stage)
Equipment: N/A
Spells:
Eleven Sovereign Insight (Tier: Mythical, Proficiency: Crude II)
Blink (Tier: Heroic, Proficiency: Crude I)
Physical Attributes (Average 1st Level Arcane Bearer = 20)
Strength: 11 (Tier: Crude, Proficiency: Common I)
Agility: 19 (Tier: Common, Proficiency: Common I)
Vitality: 5 (Tier: Crude, Proficiency: Common I)
Endurance: 10 (Tier: Crude, Proficiency: Common I)
Intelligence: 30 (Tier: Common, Proficiency: Common I)
Mystic Attributes
Magic: 7 (Tier: Crude, Proficiency: Crude I)
Luck: ???
Arcana: 13 (Tier: Crude, Proficiency: Crude II)
Aura: ???
[Stat Overview:]
The worst of the worst trash amongst trash. There's no point trying. Really, give up. No matter how hard you work, you will always remain last— even when being generous. Almost all the numbers are hopeless. This Arcane Bearer's life is concerning— maybe it's an illness, an inability to escape mediocrity. Even now, this Bearer, whilst being generous, is worse than a third-rate dwarf athlete. Pro hint: forget. I repeat, forget all hope. You know what will happen anyway, don't you? If you're not dumb, at least.
---
"This is fucking embarrassing," Dssal thought, gnashing his teeth as he skimmed the overview.
It was beyond ruthless. Beyond low.
Even if he acquired Arcane control, it should be hopeless.
In the original gameplay, stat potential determined the ceiling one could ever reach— and it rarely changed. Meaning he was destined for mediocrity.
Unless, of course, you knew where to look. And Dssal did. He was one of the game's creators, after all. He knew the hidden opportunities.
But even knowledge had limits.
There were nine potential tiers in ascending order, and an Arcane Control could improve one attribute or govern a mystic ability type from: Crude, Common, Uncommon, Rare, Abnormal, Iconic, Heroic, Mythical, and Legendary.
The tier of one's potential allowed for a three-level increase. "Crude potential" meant reaching "Uncommon" at best.
Dssal concluded quietly.
'Honestly, I might not acquire the strength to monopolize the artifacts capable of increasing my potential.'
The humiliating overview was all too accurate.
However, Dssal wasn't despairing.
After all— the protagonist of the game, even when played perfectly, with Mythical stats and a Legendary Arcane control, still died. Killed by devils. By tier difference. By raw murderous intent.
"Tch." He clicked his tongue. What an unfair playthrough this was.
Inwardly, he resolved: his only chance was to raise his spells to Legendary. Otherwise— death.
Dssal's eyes glinted.
To start, he needed to test his new authority-based spell.
Blink.
He'd really looked forward to it— not only because of what it could offer once he had meatshield protection, but because of what it meant to him personally. Although Blink's proficiency began at Crude I— unlike Sovereign Insight, which started at Crude II— he already understood it well. Among all spells, this one was his favorite. In the original gameplay, a fan-favorite character— Danya Siyelle— had mained it.
"Blink."
Suppressing his smirk, Dssal chanted the incantation and forced mana into the spell channel, mimicking Danya's original method.
Unsurprisingly, it worked.
A golden, magnificent arrow appeared before his eyes. It shimmered like an extension of himself, tethered to his will.
All he had to do was release the mana— and he would reach the arrow's edge in a flash.
Zwerppp.
Dssal carefully released it—
Then the earth turned gray as time slowed to a crawl. 1:800 ratio. His body sprinted forward without his conscious will, moving on its own. At the instant he reached the arrow's knife edge, time snapped back to normal—
—and Dssal collapsed, tumbling hard over the ground.
"What a fierce ability…" he muttered, forcing himself upright. The fall had been rough.
Danya had described it perfectly. Blink wasn't teleportation— though it looked like it. The body itself ran, impossibly fast. No matter the distance, within 10 km, it always took exactly 0.1 seconds. No more, no less. The cost? Mana and stamina— because it was your body doing the running.
The smirk on Dssal's face broke through completely.
Satisfied, he grinned widely and continued west— toward Kahrdan. Toward the show.
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HOW TO USE A WORLD'S APOCALYPSE
(END OF CHAPTER EIGHT)