Even So, It's Laughable (1)
Aren't you moving around too carelessly? If anything, that's a question I'd like to throw right back at you.
A cold soliloquy echoed through the silent Mage Tower.
"A blatant challenge."
To pull a stunt like this in the Mage Tower of all places. It was behavior that could only be explained if their guts had burst out of their belly.
And in the Mugan, no less.
Truly, there are all sorts of ways to hasten one's own death.
But soon enough, I felt a twinge of unease.
...Hold on a second.
The Mugan is a space where nothing exists. Losing the function of your five senses is par for the course. You can't even manifest magic there.
So how exactly did I sense the presence leaking from such a Mugan?
Dismissing it as sharpened senses wouldn't cut it...
I'm a demon hunter. My senses expand like a natural enemy only when pursuing demons, but otherwise, I'm utterly inept.
Moreover, only the Mage Tower's top executives can enter the Mugan. Access is granted solely to chief mages and above—even senior mages can't step foot inside.
Click.
At last, I reached a conclusion at the entrance to the Mugan.
Something's changed inside.
No one entered. It was the two elder mages trapped in the Mugan—no, the demon worshippers—who had undergone a change.
"As chief mage, I command you. Open the door to the Mugan."
Rumble.
I'd detected something ominous, yet I spoke even more boldly.
No matter what was going on, this was the Mage Tower. If anything happened, mages would come running in droves.
And it's the Mugan, of all things?
An environment where my unshakable composure shone brightest. I'd drunk green tea and even read books in the Mugan, where others couldn't last mere minutes.
This was a situation to welcome, not worry over.
So I stepped forward.
The Mugan swallowed even the click of my shoes—but only for a moment.
I quickly pinpointed the source of the impure presence.
"I see."
Mages fundamentally possess immense mental fortitude. Even so, as elder mages, they'd endured the Mugan for a long time, but they'd finally hit their limit.
If only they'd died quietly.
Grandfell Claudi Arpeus Romeo, merciless toward demons, might be one thing.
But I, Lee Hoyeol, could have wished them peace in death. Even if I loathed them, who couldn't wish rest upon the dead?
But no, they'd brimmed with malice to the very end. What a foolish notion.
On the black walls of the Mugan.
Words written with fingers as brush and blood as ink.
Or rather, not quite words...
I can't even make it out.
Someone who'd forgotten even how to speak in the Mugan couldn't write proper letters. It was neither writing nor drawing—something else entirely.
But the intent in that not-quite-last-will was immediately clear.
Not because I'm quick on the uptake.
It was a demon hunter's instinct.
Curse, 'The Inevitable Flow', discovered.
A message I hadn't seen in ages. One I'd only glimpsed back when Arcana was just a game.
One of Akkshan's staple quests was destroying demon curses, after all.
Destruction sounds grandiose.
In reality, it was no different from a chore quest. The so-called demon curses back then were mere scribbles.
Essentially treated the same as erasing graffiti from village or city walls.
No wonder Akkshan got the cold shoulder from players.
But.
I assessed it coldly.
"The intent is utterly impure."
The demons then and now were worlds apart.
The curses would be no different.
This one, left by a former elder mage on the brink of death, carried immense weight if curses had such a thing.
It sure looks that way.
The blood script filled the black wall. Even the stout-hearted would grimace at first sight—grotesque.
But who am I? Who is Grandfell?
Beyond stout-hearted, to the point where one wonders if my heart even beats.
A natural enemy unflinching before demons, not a shred of agitation.
I offered a dry assessment.
"However, they lack talent in creation."
My judgment on the demon worshipper who was once an elder mage.
A demon's curse? To Grandfell, merely an eyesore scribble.
But not for me.
A superstitious devotee who feels uneasy with red ink on names, allocates no points to Luck lest it invite misfortune, avoids stepping on thresholds.
That's me, Lee Hoyeol.
Let's erase it.
Deep down, I wanted to scald it away with hot water via magic, wipe it clean.
But magic manifestation is impossible in the Mugan.
...Should I scrub it off by hand, like back then?
My carefully groomed attire from dawn would be for naught.
A demon hunter remains one to the end.
As I swallowed a sigh.
My vision flickered.
Enter curse, 'The Inevitable Flow'?
📍 Requirement:'Natural Enemy Relationship' needed.
📍 Requirement:'Exorcism Ritual' needed.
✅ Skill:'Natural Enemy Relationship' proficiency sufficient.
✅ Skill:'Exorcism Ritual' proficiency sufficient.
Ah, so that's how it is?
Entering curse, 'The Inevitable Flow'.
I switched stances immediately.
"How utterly laughable."
Yes, if even prey like demons evolve, then their predator, the demon hunter, must advance for balance, no?
At this point, such thoughts arise.
...Was it really a late-bloomer class?
Characters unremarkable early on but shining late are likened to a king's return—wanggwi class.
Most wanggwi classes show promise from the start.
For instance... nearby, dragon knight Skal.
Strong even without a dragon.
If Skal mounted a dragon to become a true dragon knight, the world anticipated his prowess.
If demon hunter were wanggwi, all would scoff.
But as the sole demon hunter, I felt it keenly.
Appearances deceive.
Skills too.
Though unquantified, Natural Enemy Relationship and Exorcism Ritual had grown unmistakably.
Sensing the demonic presence from the Mugan was proof.
Thanks to that growth, I can see the curse now.
The realization hit.
I stepped toward the curse left by the demon worshipper.
Not just reluctance to leave it be—pure curiosity.
What purpose did this deathbed curse from a demon worshipper hold?
"The Inevitable Flow."
I wanted to know why even a grandiose name.
Of course, Grandfell's temperament too.
A demon's will?
"Then I shall defy it."
To the bitter end.
Denial is only natural.
No hesitation this time either.
Entering 'Seorn Continent' on the path to ruin.
...A vast vista.
I knew instinctively.
No combat like in rifts or dungeons?
I'd braced for monsters in the curse.
No recommended level meant as much.
Evidently not.
However.
"Save us!!"
"Wh-what the hell are those monsters?!"
"The gates to the Demon Realm have opened!"
"Retreat!! Everyone, run!!"
The landscape below was unmistakably a hellish battlefield.
Or could it even be called one?
It was closer to unilateral slaughter.
Demons trampled the city.
At first, I thought an Arcana continent city.
But too unfamiliar for Arcana.
Statues, architecture, even residents' appearances—unseen anywhere in Arcana.
Then the message flickered, resolving my doubt.
Seorn Continent...
No wonder it felt alien.
A completely different world from Arcana?
The setter's intent matters most.
I pondered from the demon worshipper's perspective.
What did he wish to leave in his dying curse?
The answer came easily.
"I see."
Recalling once more.
The goal of the three demon worshippers, including elder mage Karim Jeba.
They'd sought to manifest an upper demon king in reality.
Flicker—
Affirming the answer.
Demon eyes aligned overhead en masse.
Their formation familiar.
Like Decarabia's summoning array in Frost.
But the scale—magic circles etched across vast skies.
I could guess what they summoned.
An upper demon king, as expected.
Karim Jeba had drawn arrays via rifts worldwide to summon upper demon king Gamigin.
But this dwarfed that.
Those demon eyes floated beyond continents and planets—through space.
Thus, I identified the upper demon king.
"Baal."
Rank 1 demon king, Baal.
Yes, now I grasped the demon worshipper's final curse's purpose.
The Inevitable Flow...
No matter my struggles, futile before an upper demon king's absolute power—that's what he meant to say.
I thought objectively.
Fair enough.
The sky blackened.
Thud.
Thud... Thud...
Dull noises accompanied the bursting of the sky's lone lights—the demon eyes, one by one.
A demon hunter knew.
Devouring such sacrifices.
How monstrous...?
But positively: this curse lets me gauge an upper demon king's might.
At least see Baal's face.
...What?
My misconception.
All demon eyes burst, splitting the sky proper.
From the rift emerged something vast enough to blanket Seorn Continent.
Merely a forearm.
Shing—precisely, a hand gripping a sword.
I flinched then.
...Dozens of demon eyes as sacrifice.
Even that immense offering summoned only Baal's forearm?
My hesitation turned to shock.
The hand swung its sword lightly, pulverizing Seorn Continent into an abyssal sinkhole.
Again, a demon hunter knew.
Not demonic power or kingly authority.
Baal annihilated Seorn—a world—with pure physical might.
I, Lee Hoyeol, knew as a player.
No estimate possible for such a foe.
Experience clashing with Gamigin showed upper demon kings' caliber.
Hell’s Akkshan demon hunters, strongest against demons, full force.
Without hellfire, couldn't have dragged Gamigin down.
Baal eclipsed such Gamigin.
Hence the curse?
I hated admitting it, but my resolve wavered.
Baal seemed unreachable, unfathomable, no matter my thrashing.
Yet regardless of my despair.
My expression unchanged.
Heartbeat steady, mind cool.
Grandfell Claudi Arpeus Romeo's pride soars highest, paradoxically, before demons.
Thanks to that?
"Who dares presume to lecture whom?"
I intoned calmly.
"I know all without showing."
No bluff.
"Baal. Even how to hunt you."
Then.
Rumble!!
Baal raised its blade.
It moved.
Straight for me.
"I expected no understanding from inferior kin."
I continued seamlessly, as if waiting.
"Deem it honor. I shall enlighten you myself."