Chapter 532
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 532
Chapter Title: Out-of-Spec Magic
Creator's most perfect creation.
Those words sent ripples through Park Chan-woo's mind.
'The first existence.'
Lilith was probably the being the Creator had fashioned first and foremost.
The beginning of every story.
The name inscribed on the very first page of this grand epic called the Abyss.
And as Lilith had said, he was nothing more than a crude imitator, scavenging scraps of the Creator's power.
Archetype versus replica.
The fundamental gap in their essence was undeniable.
But that realization didn't bring him despair. Instead, it sparked a deeper, more primal question.
'The Creator made a demon first?'
It was a truth so alien that it outright denied every principle of creation he had ever understood.
Why?
Why had the Creator brought forth Lilith, a demon, the night itself, as the very first act?
Darkness, not light or the sun.
Pain and despair, not life or hope.
Had He chosen them as the starting point for everything?
Though legends said Lilith had vanished alongside the dawn of time, demons had endured, ruling the Abyss for eons.
Her children had inflicted endless torment upon this Abyss.
Demons symbolized despair, and the night was a realm of fear.
If the Creator truly dreamed of a world in harmony and coexistence, why had He molded such a dangerous, destructive being first?
It was like tending a beautiful garden by sowing poisonous seeds at the outset—a blatant contradiction.
Park Chan-woo turned to Lilith and posed the question at the heart of it all, the most essential one fueling every battle.
"Why did the Creator make you first?"
Lilith's eyes trembled ever so slightly.
As if an old, forgotten wound had been prodded.
—...Because He thought like you do.
After a long silence, she answered softly.
Her gaze drifted past Park Chan-woo, toward all the mortals he fought to protect.
—He believed that happiness exists only because of pain, hope shines only amid despair, and darkness teaches us the true value of light. The Creator held that conviction.
Park Chan-woo fell silent for a moment.
It was such a profoundly human philosophy.
Far too paradoxical for an absolute god to embrace.
—He didn't want this Abyss to become a flawless paradise. He feared everything stagnating in endless bliss. So He created me—the absolute embodiment of 'evil,' standing in opposition to all that is positive, to eternally inflict trials and suffering upon this world.
Lilith.
The first demon.
Her very reason for being was as a 'necessary evil' to elevate this world to greater heights.
—My night may have been terror to you, but to Him, it was the perfect stage for tempering all living things. My children, the demons, were predators trampling you underfoot, yet also the whip driving you to climb higher. Struggling through despair, growing through pain—that was the homework the Creator assigned you mortals under the name of 'life.'
Her voice carried a deep sneer.
A bitter disillusionment at being mere 'tool.'
"...But you."
Park Chan-woo continued.
"You rejected that role."
—Yes.
Lilith affirmed without hesitation.
—I couldn't partake in that cruel play. I couldn't accept the shallow logic that pain is prerequisite for happiness.
For the first time, a fierce flame ignited in her hollow eyes.
An unstoppable rage suppressed for eons.
—Happiness should simply be happiness. Pure, whole, demanding no price—an absolute respite. Isn't that true salvation? Why must one suffer misfortune first just to grasp joy?
Her cry echoed across the battlefield.
—The Creator was wrong. His way wasn't salvation; it was a deception forcing an eternal cycle of torment. I only wanted to shatter that cycle. To lead everyone into an eternal dream where no more fighting or suffering occurs—to steal true 'paradise' from Him.
That was her rebellion.
Defying the Creator's will head-on, seeking to save the world in her own manner.
A twisted love, yearning to gift perfect happiness to all.
Only then did Park Chan-woo understand everything.
She was a revolutionary with her own convictions, a tragic dreamer.
The first heretic, loving the world in a way that defied the Creator's intent.
Yes.
'Our ways of loving were just too different.'
But her method had been so extreme.
The Creator had no choice but to deem her an 'error' and eliminate her.
To prevent the Abyss from being swallowed by her eternal dream—a stagnant nightmare.
Two absolutes.
A father and daughter whose ways of loving the world diverged too vastly—a tragedy.
"I understand your will, Lilith."
Park Chan-woo said.
"But your way is wrong too."
—What?
"Forcing slumber isn't peace. Ignoring pain isn't salvation. You're just a coward, terrified of your own wounds, trying to blind everyone else."
Lilith's eyes cooled once more.
—What do you know of my pain, you worm?
"I know."
Park Chan-woo declared firmly.
"I've witnessed the same despair as you. Countless apocalypses, the agony of losing everything I loved."
He recalled the past.
Innumerable failures that had crushed him.
"But I didn't run. I didn't choose sleep. I embraced all that pain and still chose to rise again. Because knowing pain lets me comfort others' pain. Knowing despair's depths reveals hope's light as precious."
This was the answer Park Chan-woo had found.
Life wasn't about evading pain but learning to live alongside it.
"Happiness without pain is hollow, Lilith. Your eternal dream is an empty paradise devoid of color or scent."
Park Chan-woo readjusted his grip on his staff.
"I won't put everyone to sleep like you. I'll give them the courage to open their eyes, stand on their own feet, and face harsh reality head-on."
Not fleeing.
Facing it squarely.
That was the beginning of true happiness.
"And at the end of that path, so they can find genuine happiness, I'll fight by their side. Lilith."
—...
Lilith fell silent for a time.
Then she shook her head.
—...You mortals are still so obtuse. I can't fathom why you shun the easy path for the arduous one.
With perfect rest at hand, why insist on the thorny road?
In her eyes, every struggle and triumph Park Chan-woo described was pointless, exhausting flailing.
—Yes. Perhaps it's because of existences like you.
Lilith's hollow gaze pierced Park Chan-woo.
—You're like a plague. Tossing stones into a still lake, rippling endlessly, forcibly awakening the slumbering to uncomfortable truths.
Her voice grew icy.
—You corrupt those around you with false hope. Whispering that pain is a stepping stone to growth, that light awaits beyond despair—never realizing it's eternal torture repeating forever.
Behind Lilith, wings formed of billions of black hands fluttered in fury.
—I can't stand by and watch your plague spread further.
That was her final verdict.
She deemed the path Park Chan-woo offered a 'wrong answer.'
And wrong answers had to be erased.
—This ends now, last error of the Creator.
Rumble rumble rumble rumble rumble!
The billions of black hands composing her wings transformed en masse into spears of 'black divine punishment,' raining down upon Park Chan-woo.
An apocalyptic downpour, as if the heavens themselves collapsed—inescapable doom.
The final judgment from the first evil, meant to conclude everything.
A single black bolt had matched him evenly; he could never withstand billions pouring like rain.
Lilith was certain.
This would end it all.
But it took little time to realize her mistake.
She had overlooked one crucial fact.
While she had ascended to perfection by sacrificing six monarchs and billions of demon souls,
Park Chan-woo hadn't stood idle.
He had traversed twelve worlds, shattering twelve nights.
Each night conquered granted him immense rewards from the system.
His unprecedented feats exponentially amplified those rewards.
Not mere coins or gear, but the primal 'concepts' inherent to each night and world.
The 'Night of Death' taught life's finitude; the 'Night of Madness,' reason's value; the 'Night of Solitude,' bonds' warmth.
He had pierced the essence of every trial, absorbing their quintessence into his soul.
Where Lilith had seized lives under the guise of 'sacrifice' to complete herself,
Park Chan-woo had saved countless worlds under the banner of 'salvation,' earning their gratitude as reward.
Through opposing paths, both had advanced toward their ultimates.
And at last, in Park Chan-woo's grasp, all those rewards began fusing into one.
A singular ultimate transcending even Abyss grade—beyond the system's classification.
It was magic.
Magic beyond absolute magic, out-of-spec.
Forged from every Wish he'd accumulated, every insight gained, and humanity's desperate pleas.
The one supreme authority only he could wield!
"Apocalypse."
The moment that quiet word slipped from Park Chan-woo's lips,
the world stopped.