Ch. 011: The Hour of Revelation
[Reward granted]
[One hour of chance to obtain invaluable information — a bonus reward courtesy of the Eighth High God]
Ting.
From Dssal's chest, a faint shimmer rippled outward — like heat rising off sun-scorched stone. A massive black manual suddenly emerged, hovering in the air before him. Its appearance eerily identical to the one Alice clutched in her hand, down to the worn texture of its spine.
Familiar… no wait.
"What—?" Dssal coughed, his face twisting in bewilderment. Slowly, he reached for the book, only to find it impossibly heavy — yet it drifted without being touched, as though gravity no longer applied to things it deemed unworthy of its weight.
He let it float listlessly for a moment before flipping it open.
Every page lay blank. Empty — mockingly so. Dssal's frown deepened, his confusion hardening into frustration. The notification had been clear: an hour to obtain invaluable information. Yet here was nothing but untouched paper staring back at him.
'Why am I thinking too hard — this woman already knows about it, doesn't she.'
His gaze flickered toward Alice. Suspicion churned in his eyes, but mingled with it was a reluctant trust. Something about her presence made doubting her feel wasteful, if not outright dangerous. He couldn't afford to show animosity. Not yet.
Catching his stare, Alice spoke calmly.
"There's nothing wrong with the reward," she said. "The reward wasn't literal text. What he meant by invaluable information — that part falls to me. The book is probably just a medium… a way for you and I to communicate."
She raised her own volume. Its pages whispered with faint, shifting letters, invisible to all but her. The glow spilling from its surface painted her features sharp yet serene — like someone who had long since made peace with secrets that would break other people.
'How delightful, is she volunteering to become a pawn of mine?'
Dssal tightened his grip on the hovering tome, reluctant yet drawn to its silent weight.
"So you're saying… the information will come from you?"
Alice nodded once.
She's interesting.
"Yes. And probably only for an hour each day. After that, everything closes. As well, whatever you need to know — you'll have to ask it by writing."
The words hung between them, heavy with implication.
'Huh, the hell?'
Dssal's throat worked as he swallowed. A troubling realization struck him: if the book was given as the best means of communicating with Alice, then he was probably going to be forced back into the Pantheon the moment this hour ended.
Dssal tensed. He hadn't expected such a twist.
And worse — how the hell did she know that?
For a moment, silence pressed in. The distant hum of city traffic seemed strangely muted, as though the world itself had leaned in to listen.
Finally, Dssal swallowed again and forced out the second most pressing question clawing at him — one he willed to sound far more composed than he felt.
"…Tell me, Alice. Who are you really? And why was I sent there?"
Alice's fingers brushed over her book's surface, and faint runes stirred awake like ancient eyes blinking open after long sleep. She met his gaze without wavering, her radiant blue eyes surprisingly captivating — the kind of eyes that had seen too many endings to flinch at one more.
"That," she murmured, "as the first question? Good. But whether you're ready for the answer… that's another matter entirely." She paused, then replied softly:
"However, since you eventually need to know, I'll shorten it. In my book, you're… a character. A character from a novel."
'Absolutely not.'
But new letters across Dssal's book flared as though eager to confirm her words.
Chapter One: A New Beginning.
The words etched themselves in glowing ink, ominous in their hunger. The book seemed desperate to be filled — someone's autobiography, being written in real time.
He stared at the shifting letters, his thoughts spiraling. It explained too little. With all this mystery, his world was probably never going to know peace again.
"…Then what's your role, Alice?"
Her expression softened.
"I'm a regressor. On my last retry."
'No, no, no.'
Dssal's jaw tightened.
Of course he still wanted revenge for all the things she hadn't told him before now. But he also knew well the kind of power a regressor carried. He breathed out slowly, then asked the one question that mattered above all others.
"I see. So what do you mainly want from me?"
'I need to be more meticulous now. I don't care what she's thinking — I must be ready to put even my revenge aside for the moment. Depending on her answer, I might just have to kill her here and now. As for repercussions — I no longer exist in this world, so I won't be held responsible for it. Thankfully.'
He wasn't a hero. He never had been. And he certainly refused to become a martyr. If Alice's answer meant sacrificing his life for the world, then she would lose hers here instead. He couldn't do it. Not for any reason, under any circumstance.
Thankfully, as though she had anticipated this very fear, Alice smiled warmly and answered without hesitation.
"Your survival."
Naturally, that alone was enough for Dssal. As long as she wanted him alive, they were on the same page — no further questioning required.
Seems to have passed. Though she might still be faking it all…
"What is the best way for me to survive, in your opinion?"
"To get stronger," Alice replied simply.
Dssal's lips curled into a faint grin as he nodded.
'Right up my alley my suspicions are even quietly reducing, aren't they.'
It was something he could live with. He sensed no deceit, no malice beneath her words. She was genuine — and her goal matched his own. To grow stronger. To survive. It was almost reassuring, almost like stepping naturally into the role of a typical fantasy protagonist.
All he needed now was to leisurely seize opportunities, free of fear or calculation, until he became something untouchable.
But that hope was swiftly shot down.
"I can help you get stronger," Alice admitted, "but I can't tell you the best route to it."
'She says one thing and then does another, it's contradictory as hell am I missing a piece?'
Dssal's brows furrowed as he worked to maintain a neutral expression.
He needed to calm down. What did she mean by that beyond surface level? If she couldn't give him a route, what was the point of her being a regressor at all? There must be something more than this if it's just she could help him grow stronger, he doubted it would amount to much — he already knew several paths to power. What he lacked was the ability to know which ones to prioritize.
Sensing his thoughts, Alice continued without pause.
"I can't say the best route because every time I did in the past, that route gained a new obstacle in the form of an unknown variable. But don't worry — I trust your judgment. Besides… if you do well, you could gain the kind of power that gods could only wish for."
This damned woman…
Dssal's interest spiked at the tail end of her words.
Alice elaborated.
"I'm saying that you have an ability — well, of a sort. Your entire existence has been erased from the real world and transferred as a cannon fodder extra into the Pantheon story mode we created. I don't know how, but the game we made has become real. And now you hold the Black Manual — meaning whatever happens in the game directly affects real life. That's why, at the final level, when devils break through dimensions, Earth faces annihilation. However, we can use that truth to our advantage right now.
The way it works is this: if the original game developers — me, you, the Cahill brothers, and the members of the game forum — believe information you provide in Pantheon and code it as having happened, that will become reality. In other words, if you somehow convince the Cahill brothers and the forum members that you have a new ability in Pantheon, and they code it as such, you would gain that ability in truth — no matter how overpowered. You yourself could even set the conditions."
Dssal listened in silence as Alice's voice carried on steadily in the background.
If it's all true, then he was in a real joyride. He nearly broke into a smile — nearly — but managed to suppress it and stay in character.
Let's consider the complications first.
Everything seemed straightforward enough, yet he sensed a limit Alice hadn't explicitly mentioned. Quietly, he noted to himself that he should still operate within plausible expectations. No point inviting suspicion.
But now a new problem surfaced: how was he supposed to pretend he had an ability he hadn't yet acquired? It wasn't a small matter. He would need to change a great deal about how others perceived him — and that took time, not to mention a convincing story.
First, he needed a persona. Preferably someone mysterious — someone whose blank spaces could be filled in later without raising questions. That way, he would have the leeway to claim new abilities as circumstances shifted without contradiction. After all, he couldn't simply stroll up to the protagonist and announce that he possessed multiple legendary Spells and an Immortal's Arcane Control. No one would believe him.
Thankfully, the mysterious persona was the least of his worries. He had spent three years in Pantheon projecting an aloof, unreadable bearing, and no one had once suspected it was an act — except for Alice, on account of having lived through it all already.
Even then, though…
The harder problem remained: he needed a new Spell — one he could claim as his own, one he could build a narrative around. And that was precarious. From the shape of things, the main storyline would begin the moment this hour ran out, as though a personal quest had been waiting for him all along. The same quest the main character received upon first arriving. And while Dssal possessed the Elven Sovereign Insight trait, it wasn't a combat Spell. He had managed to kill a level three beast — a level four would barely register his attacks. If such a performance made it into the story mode, his mysterious façade would crumble before it had even properly formed, and with it, any future chance of using this type of advantage.
"Alright… it seems it is time."
Dssal felt the shift before Alice even finished speaking. He glanced at his quest window — and indeed, the hour had reached its end. A mild irritation flickered through him at how swiftly it had passed. At least he had what he needed. Most of it, anyway.
Still, one final obstacle loomed: the void. He would have to pass through it on the way back, and the experience was deeply unpleasant — something akin to being turned inside out while falling upward through an inverted roller coaster.
He wasn't looking forward to it in the slightest.
Vrrrum.
But before he could spare it another thought, the black hole swallowed him whole — book and all.
HOW TO USE A WORLD'S APOCALYPSE
(END OF CHAPTER ELEVEN)