The Price of Hubris and the Rebirth of a Monster
Brunhilde walked into the inferno, dragging Meiling and Helgen along with her. Jang Jojun pulled a trembling Kim Yewon into a gentle embrace, waiting for their return. He could have deployed the Void Veil to follow them, but he sensed it would only be a hindrance. His intuition was spot on; Brunhilde was currently condensing the raging embers into a single point, intending to force-feed them to Helgen. The presence of others would have been nothing more than a distraction.
“H-huk... h-ha... hu...”
Hilde discovered a charred, blackened entity in a corner of the roaring flames. It was Dante, who hadn't managed to escape in time. He was burning to death, unable to inflict any meaningful damage on Surtur’s avatar, which lacked a physical form. It was a miracle that he hadn't died yet, considering he was neither a dragon-kin nor anything special, his entire body being scorched by divine fire. Hilde picked up Dante, who was crawling across the floor, his vocal cords so badly burned he couldn't even scream.
“You possess a curious body. Even if it has weakened... this is fire forged by a god. Is your soul that sturdy? How are you still alive?”
“H-ha... ha... haaa...”
“Get out.”
Hilde nonchalantly tossed Dante out of the flames. “Now then.”
One of the two nuisances was gone. Now, only the madwoman remained, dancing and laughing like a lunatic in the heart of the inferno. “So, that woman is the anchor for the ritual.” Hilde approached Meiling with swift, predatory grace.
“Hahahaha!!! Are you... are you one of His women, too? Just how many have you touched!!!”
“I don’t know what you’re babbling about...”
Meiling waved her hand at the approaching Hilde. Surtur’s hellfire surged outward, intent on incinerating her. Meiling was arrogant enough to believe that alone would be sufficient. Even in a world where arrogance and carelessness inevitably led to death, Meiling—who had yet to encounter true powerhouses like Kesia or Ziegfried—foolishly assumed this was enough.
Perhaps it was Jojun’s stroke of luck that he had been tossed into the deep end, forced to face impossible monsters from the very start. If not for that, Jojun might have been just like Meiling, drunk on power and ignorant of the world. He might have stopped moving, thinking he had reached the summit. But Jojun had been crushed time and again by transcendental beings, learning early on that the world was vast. He realized that the moment one stops, thinking they are "good enough," they become fodder for a stronger monster.
Regardless, Meiling had violated one of the fundamental rules of the apocalypse: Do not be arrogant. It was a rule just as vital as Do not be careless. And now, a fixed future approached the one who had broken the rules, walking through the flames as if they were nothing.
“Hahahaha... Huh? Wait...? Why... Gyaaaa!!!!”
Hilde, having torn through Surtur’s fire, slammed her fist into Meiling’s face. If this had been the fire of a living god, even Hilde would not have emerged unscathed, but what had been summoned here was merely a fragment of a god who had long since died and been buried.
-SOUL SHATTERING IMPACT
Hilde began to beat Meiling without a word. Under the ruthless barrage of fists, Meiling could only raise her guard and scramble to defend herself.
“Gyaaaa!!! What is this!!! Why!!!!”
“A madwoman who doesn't know how scary the world is needs a good beating.”
“W-wait!!!! My bones are breaking!!!!”
“Shut up. Just die from the beating!”
“Uwaaaa!!!!!”
Killian’s attacks hadn't hurt Meiling thanks to the skill Pain Negation, which she had stolen after killing a Paladin. Yet, for some reason, Hilde’s punches were agonizing, rattling her brain and leaving her drooling. Impacts that transcended the skill’s effects hammered into Meiling’s body. Punches that resonated with the soul were unleashed. Hilde’s fists, which had disciplined various lunatics including Ziegfried, were filled with romance and emotion.
In the end, true to Hilde’s words that a beating is the best medicine for a madwoman, Meiling was beaten until the laughter vanished from her face, and she collapsed.
“Phew.”
Hilde tossed the limp, whimpering Meiling out of the flames, just as she had done with Dante. Jang Jojun would handle the rest. “Now, if I put this one to sleep, it’s over. Look forward to it, Helgen. I’m going to show you something incredible.”
“Whimper...”
The anchor for the Surtur summoning ritual was gone. All that remained was the phenomenon that hadn't yet burned out. Hilde raised both arms and clenched her fists, as if grabbing the empty air. At that moment, the massive flames converged into a single point. This was an essential ability for hunting down Spirit Gods, who lacked physical forms but could devastate entire regions. It was a technique called Hypostatic Materialization, which forcibly dragged down a god that had become the phenomenon itself.
It was a high-level technique that no one but a monster of Ziegfried’s caliber could even attempt to mimic. Among Jojun’s current group, excluding gods like Sataniel, the only one capable of such insanity was Brunhilde. She had already reached a realm that even the Sword Saint, Pharus, couldn't grasp.
This, in fact, caused a massive ripple in causality. Even if it were a result of coincidences piling upon coincidences, the fact that a monster nearing the status of a god had participated in a form that could directly influence the player’s faction would surely have enormous repercussions. Perhaps other factions' heroes would be granted similar opportunities, or entities of equal standing would join the fray. It was a form of balance patch, or perhaps a backlash. Of course, seizing the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity was up to the individual. The world wasn't kind enough to force-feed one a fortuitous encounter.
—Kuaaaaa!!!!!
Regardless, as Hilde condensed the flames, the Fire Giant King revealed himself. A body rippling with crimson fire and eyes burning white. Though he was already dead, leaving only his remains, Surtur—manifested in the present world by Loki burning Mustang’s soul—possessed an absurd level of heat. Hilde smiled and compressed the Giant King’s avatar even further. Into a size perfect for a single bite.
—Thud!!!
Dante, flying like a skipping stone, slammed into a tree right next to Jang Jojun. He hadn't been thrown with lethal force, but the damage was certain; Dante writhed, groaning in agony.
“W-what is this!!!” Jojun approached the charred, blackened living corpse. “This... surely... My god, it’s Dante...”
His condition was critical. Every hair on his body, including his eyebrows, had been burned away, and his joints had been shattered during the battle with Surtur. Above all, the burns were severe. ‘It’s a miracle he’s even alive...’ Jojun couldn't find the words and began to heal Dante. Dante let out pained moans as flesh began to surge and regrow. Soon, his shattered joints snapped back into place.
‘The burned skin isn't healing...’
However, skin scorched by divine fire could not be restored even by surging flesh. Of course, that would only be true if he weren't in a state liberated by Sataniel. Jojun poured his mana into him, thinking he would keep at it until it healed. If he had called Anna, the Saint, to first lift the curse of the hellfire before casting healing magic, it would have been simple... but...
“Kke... Kkegegegegek!!!!!!”
Dante’s body was forcibly restored. With his vocal cords repaired, Dante let out a horrific scream. This was the result of Surging Flesh—a power of Kashnakas that transcended the limits of skills—breaking through the curse of the hellfire to brutally heal him. It was effectively the same as crushing Dante’s body and reconstructing it from scratch. Surging Flesh was rebuilding Dante’s body so he could endure the "Curse of Hellfire," which forced him to feel the agony of burning for eternity.
In truth, such a feat was only possible because Dante’s body was absurdly sturdy. Dante, who lacked situational awareness, was a wild child, and was a bit dim-witted, was mentally lacking, but his body was so resilient that he couldn't even die and was forced to suffer endlessly.
“Kkeeee!!! Stop!!! You fucking heretic bastard!!!! Just kill me!!! That’s the easiest way!!!!!”
Perhaps his brain had started functioning normally because the pain was so intense. Dante, realizing that killing him was the simplest solution, screamed at Jang Jojun, who was frantically stuffing Surging Flesh into him.
“Shut up!!! I haven't even broken even on my investment yet!! Don't die!! Dante!!! Survive and work more!! Work for me!!!”
“Kyaaaa!!!!”
From a distance, this was a comedy. But to the parties involved, or those watching a human being twisted in real-time, it was nothing short of a horrific tragedy.
“Ugh... Ugh...”
“Yewon unni...”
“Ah... Harin-ah...”
Kim Yewon, who had been forced to cover her mouth at the sight of Dante’s transformation, and Seong Harin, who patted her back with a pitiful expression. The two, who arguably possessed the cleanest minds in Jojun’s group, comforted each other. Regardless, Jojun, focused entirely on saving Dante, pushed Surging Flesh to its absolute limit, completely remaking Dante.
“Ah, it’s finished...”
Wisps of smoke rose, and a naked man stood up from the spot. In truth, it was questionable whether he could even be called a man.
“Ah... this...” Dante looked down at his transformed hands. It was horrific.
—Twitch...
“W-what is this...”
“Ah... *ahem*. You’re alive, so that’s a relief. Isn't it, Dante?”
Dante’s race had changed. As a result of completely tearing apart his body ruined by Surging Flesh... he had been transformed into an entirely different entity. Yet, his soul remained Dante’s.
“It’s the Ship of Theseus.”
“Harin-ah... you know things like that?”
“Hm? Oh, unni... I was good at studying in my prime... I even worked hard in my philosophy electives...”
As Seong Harin said, Dante was now a state where, aside from his original soul, not a single part remained the same as before. Just like the Ship of Theseus. At the very least, because his soul was still Dante’s, the slave brand hadn't been erased. A brand is not carved into the body, but into the soul.
“Ah...” Dante was a man who took great pride in his appearance. But the current Dante was nothing short of hideous. He now resembled the appearance of the servant race created by Kashnakas. A body glistening with a pink hue, black protrusions growing here and there. His left arm was nothing but tentacles instead of fingers, and his right arm had lost even that, with only a long, awl-like bone protruding. Jojun took off his own clothes and tossed them to Dante. He couldn't bear to look at such a disgusting sight.
“Ah... Aaaa...” Dante put on the clothes, looking incredibly hollow... wondering why his vision had increased to five eyes. He couldn't find the courage to face his own reflection.
‘If I fuse him with Kekere... what would happen...’ Even in the middle of this, Jojun pondered how much stronger Kekere would become if he fused her with Dante. Jojun was a man indifferent to the suffering of others.
Just as the commotion was settling, something else flew toward Jojun and slammed into the ground.
—Boom!!
“Kyaa!!!”
“Whoa...”
It was Meiling, now a bloody mess.
“Kuhuk... H-hi... It’s been a while... I missed... I missed you... Hahaha.....”
The opponent has submitted to you.
The moment she saw Jojun’s face, overwhelmed by a surge of emotion, Meiling immediately rolled over and exposed her belly. Her brain had been slightly fried by the witch parasite Jojun had force-fed her.