Slave Spirit
"Heh heh heh, impressive. So you're not just some random hero after all, huh?"
An illusionist materialized in the empty space like a mirage.
I didn't waste words with him twice—I just sliced him clean in half.
Your yapping's so damn tiresome by now, you bastard.
He couldn't possibly know how I felt after hearing the same crap 998 times.
At least the ending was a little different this time around, which was fresh, but not enough to spare him.
The bastard had gone way too far with my brother today. In past loops, since I was one of the 'Black Sheep', they never targeted my brother directly. But this time, figuring him for the hero's family, they'd attacked without mercy.
Whoosh—
His body, scattered in the air, reformed like a film reel playing in reverse.
"You know, I can feel it about you. A soul stained so black, chosen by the gods as a hero! It's delicious. I'll claim you before the Red Fur King does."
"Shut your mouth."
Rip that trap shut before it spills more truths it shouldn't.
"Soon I'll bleach you white and slap a number on you, hero. Heh heh heh!"
The illusion cackled maniacally and lunged. Or tried to. My holy sword was faster, severing its arms, legs, neck. And ripping its mouth apart.
I didn't like it blabbing after serving its purpose.
Crunch!
I stomped the rolling head into pulp. With a pop, the illusion crumpled like a wadded paper doll.
Damage to illusions doesn't transfer to the illusionist.
"Kh… heh! Even so, I won't… die! I'm eternal. Immortal…"
"You wouldn't know, but you've already died 998 times."
"What… does that… mean…"
I lifted my foot and picked up the paper doll. It was marked with the number 361.
The illusionist Joo Jeong-hoon had the power to seal the souls he'd killed into paper dolls and summon them as illusions. Each doll bore a number.
I infused dark energy into the doll, probing the spirit's traces within. The spirit's remnants, tainted by dark energy, were tightly bound like chains—but those chains obeyed me.
"Found it."
Within the illusion's chains, faint, invisible waves pulsed rhythmically, linking somewhere.
This was the tether between illusion and master.
"Bluetooth, huh."
"You bastard, what are you—"
I traced the waves with dark energy, pursuing the fading spirit flow. Once I memorized the pattern, his location snapped into focus.
About 5km from here, in a sealed room inside some abandoned house.
The man inside was the illusionist's true body, Joo Jeong-hoon.
As long as they used dark energy, the Black Sheep cultists couldn't escape my perception. They were just fish flopping in the net I'd cast.
And that was why I was the perfect hero.
"You crazy son of a bitch! Arghhh!"
The illusionist Joo Jeong-hoon raged at the massive loss of spirit power. Over five hundred illusions—enough to wipe out a mid-sized guild—gone to one man.
The real kicker was Illusion 361, his strongest enforcer. Shredded without a fight.
This was a disaster. Even if the 'Black Sheep' chose him next, he'd get no respect.
"You bastard, one day I'll kill you and turn you into an illusion. Make you kneel and lick the floor like a dog…"
Then a creepy unease wrapped around him, freezing his words and making him tremble.
This room was his alone. An abandoned house no one approached, sealed tighter than a tomb—not even ants got in.
No one entered without his say-so.
Or so it should be…
Looking up instinctively, he locked eyes with a massive black pupil and convulsed.
"Hiiik!"
A pitch-black eye glared from the ceiling, bottomless like a swamp sucking him in.
What the hell was that eye?
"Still there, huh. Consistent bastard."
"H-Hero?!!"
How was he here?
No matter. He was immortal. Unkillable.
He still had hundreds of illusions under him. He was their lord, eternal. All hunters and holy knights feared him, begged for mercy.
He'd crushed and toyed with those arrogant knights, reigning as the ultimate villain.
To shake off his fear of death and evil.
But meeting the hero's eyes stripped away every shell, exposing his pathetic core.
A voice echoed from his soul's depths: Run if you want to live. Survive, grow stronger, amass more illusions.
"U, uwaaaaaah!"
Desperately shoving off the soul-devouring black eye, Joo Jeong-hoon tried to flee the room.
But he couldn't. Agonizing pain exploded in his chest.
From beyond, killing intent surged. Through the link with Illusion 361. The pain spread from his chest like quicksand, consuming his body.
"Grrrrr!"
He clenched his teeth, trying to sever the link. Futile. More dark energy poured in along it.
Boom! Boom boom boom!
Explosions ripped through his body, bones snapping grotesquely. Blinding pain whitened his mind.
"Kkh!"
His final struggles ended with a splat as his chest burst open.
The hero was a monster. Never to be challenged.
His head lolled forward, vomiting blood.
I cut the Death Terraforming transmission linked to him. Turning my head, I saw the spirit approaching.
A slave spirit, forced to wield spirit magic while bound to him. In past loops, I'd been enslaved like this too—along with the saintess and others.
It had been hovering nearby cautiously, probably to thank me.
Still fuming over my brother, I softened my aura a bit.
"That just now… dark energy? What happened?"
"Killed the illusionist."
"No way."
Was it that shocking? Flashy spirit and illusion magic, sure, but to me, he was just a two-swing chump. Always had been.
I'd never bothered with slave spirits in past loops, though.
"Wanna verify the kill? There's a spot not far. Check the body."
But this was the spirit world. Flying recklessly could harm innocents. Sensing that, the spirit offered:
"I'll warp you. Just picture the place."
Spirits sure knew what I needed.
Moments later, with its help, I arrived at the illusionist's hideout.
Inside the ruin, Joo Jeong-hoon's corpse lay twisted, limbs broken, chest exploded.
Remote Death Terraforming left quite the mess.
The slave spirit, seeing the body, beamed with uncontained joy.
"Yes! That's him—the illusionist who bound me!"
"Bindings gone now?"
"Totally! Ever since him, my head's been foggy, out of it. Now? Crystal clear! How'd you do it?"
"Tracked the wave linking him and his illusion, then skill'd him."
"Uh… sounds complicated, but if you say so, hero."
Gratitude shone in its eyes. Cute, if not for the haggard, eerie look from long enslavement. Recovery would take time.
"Hero, truly… thank you."
"Yeah."
"Taking down such a monster… you're amazing. God's chosen, after all."
I let the gushing praise slide as I nudged the corpse with holy power-infused foot. It crumbled to white ash like burnt paper.
Too tainted to leave in the spirit forest.
"Ahh! Even incinerating his corpse with precious holy power… thank you from the bottom of my heart!"
Just a bit of spare holy power, but it was thrilled. Leaving it would've risked tainting spirits who cleaned it up.
No reason to linger. We headed out and back to the hideout entrance.
"Plans now?"
"Hunt the Red Fur King."
"…He's as strong as a demon legion commander."
"Yep. Tough bastard."
"He stays quiet unless provoked."
The slave fairy spirit recounted its experiences with the Red Fur King under the illusionist.
But I was targeting him because he went after my brother first.
No reason to delay or hold back.
"You don't know the Red Fur King."
"Huh? But…"
"He already targeted my brother. If I don't step up, he'll try again."
The more I dodged, the bolder he'd get.
He'd joined the 'Black Sheep' cult but never followed orders—total loose cannon.
"One favor."
"What?"
"He'll show up nearby. Just warn me ahead of time."
"Easy. You're my benefactor."
It grinned wide, pitiful yet trustworthy? I narrowed my eyes.
Thankfully, it warned me right on time, letting me prepare first.
A hulking musclebound man with thick, shaggy grayish-blue hair streaked black thundered through the spirit gate.
My history with the Red Fur King had always sucked in past loops.
A lunatic from the beast realm—not human or demon—who'd drifted into the 'Black Sheep' cult, building his twisted world on insane logic.
His half-werewolf blood and unique trait stayed secret till death in most loops.
I knew everything, loop after loop—but knowledge wasn't public.
I'd heard why he fell to darkness from his dying lips once, from the third realm.
But every loop, he died by my hand, usually tied to my brother's death. Had to kill him for peace of mind.
He shoved open the rickety door of the ruin that'd collapse any second. Inside reeked of blood and rot—familiar to cultists.
His steps halted at the faint ashen outline of a human on the empty living room floor.
The Red Fur King's lips twisted oddly.
"Explosive dark energy and brutal holy power… so this is the hero."