He drifted toward the abomination's chest through the opening and swung the Utopian sword from behind, making it cut through the air—almost slicing the very molecules around it—before it sank deep into the creature's chest.
But with a hard, crunchy sound, the blade stopped halfway.
Ibaan's eyes widened. He pushed with all his strength until the Octod beast let out a harsh, warped cry. Then—finally—the sword punched all the way through. The Utopian blade glowed a fierce red, and blood splattered across the ground.
At the point where he had struck, sparks of light burst from the creature's chest, twisting and shooting in all directions.
Ibaan smiled under the mask. His guess had been right—that glowing spot was the core of the beast. And now the process would move faster.
A new panel appeared before him.
[You have slaughtered a beast: Orrock]
[You have received Octod Beast Core]
Ibaan's smile shifted into a smirk. He still hadn't awakened the Slaughtering Skill even after breaking the beast's core. Of course—he wasn't the protagonist of this world, he wasn't the chosen one, and he had no interest in being one either. And if anyone were meant to be that, it would be Charlie, not him.
'I guess I have to wait.'
He sighed and glanced at the rest of the scattered abominations—almost countless in number.
A faint irritation and ache spread through his head. He felt the urge to curse under his breath, something he never dared to do. Yet this world seemed determined to force him to change… to adapt… and to endure whatever came next.
***
As the towering walls stretched upward into the sky and wrapped around the entire land—almost the size of a city—Ibaan walked beneath their shadow. They extended sideways without end, and with his sight a bit sharper than a normal human's, he noticed the slight curve at the far edge. It meant the walls formed a perfect circle around the area.
A huge wooden-like door stood ahead, with small stairs leading up to it. It was the gate that allowed one to pass beyond these walls.
But Ibaan didn't bother with any of that. He had no intention of going behind those walls—not now.
And the plan to raise his Mark Branch?
Yeah… now that wasn't going to happen today.
His eyes were tired and heavy, and the fatigue in his muscles twisted deeper with every small movement—some of those muscles were even torn and were taking longer to heal. Sharp jolts shot through him each time he tried to move. Lactic acid burned inside him from the lack of oxygen, forcing his body into anaerobic breaths. And in this realm, there wasn't even real fresh air. He had seen only a few trees—very few—far too few to explain how any oxygen existed at all… but this place was built on mysticism. Mysteries everywhere. Nothing made sense.
He was drained of Mark energy. Breathing hard, he crawled forward slowly after facing more than a hundred abominations.
There weren't many left near the wall now, and there was no path out. No clear way back to the real world either.
But he remembered something: last time, he had fallen asleep by accident—and when he woke up, he was back in the real world.
So maybe… if he slept again… there was a chance he would return.
But no—he pushed the thought away at once. He couldn't take that risk. He couldn't gamble with his life. Anything could strike him at any moment.
Still… he found himself stopping, sitting, and thinking.
He remembered the words his master once told him, the one known as the Nemesis of Angels.
"A life without risk is a cage for the weak. Only those who dare cut their own path can ever rise."
What his master truly meant was simple: there is no life without risks.
'That's right.'
Ibaan let himself drop, but he used the utopian sword to steady his fall. He sat there quietly, his limbs too heavy to move, then leaned against the great wall behind him.
Next to the wall, he looked no different from a tiny ant. The wall itself felt like a towering mountain.
He opened the relic. At the bottom of the Status section… a new rune had appeared.
[Consumable Cores: 23 Octod Cores
29 Orrock Cores.]
He pushed the relic's notice aside. As for the Utopian sword, he couldn't dismiss it at all—it wasn't linked to the relic. To be exact, without entering the school system's space, he couldn't summon or dismiss the blade. It put him at a disadvantage, though he could try linking it to the relic later.
With that thought, he let the back of his head tap lightly against the wall.
He closed his eyes. He had to take the risk. Sleep was already pulling him down.
His eyes shut… slowly… and darkness wrapped around him.
The next moment, when he opened them again, he froze.
The maroon blanket in front of him swayed a little in the wind. A small table stood beside it with books stacked neatly. A clock hung on the wall, ticking in the quiet room.
His hands were resting on a soft white comforter. He was back in his bed.
His eyes shot open, fully awake now. He pushed himself up from the bed at once. The ache in his muscles was still there, and a dull throb sat behind his eyes, but the heavy drain and broken-muscle feeling were mostly gone.
So his guess had been right. Sleeping inside the Dead Eye's realm really did pull him back into the real world. Then another thought came—if he slept here, would he return to that realm again? Maybe. And the fact that he had ended up there right after falling asleep during the mission also fit.
It meant he could enter and leave on his own… without needing to "call" the Dead Eye of the Fallen in any way.
Excitement rushed through him. Then he noticed something else—he had slept almost two extra hours after returning. The reason was simple: whenever he went into the Dead Eye's realm, time outside froze.