The World's Strongest
A man stood shrouded in a black robe, leaving almost none of his body exposed. Even in a realm where swords, sorcery, and superhumans were everyday realities, gazing down upon the earth from an altitude exceeding thirty kilometers was a feat practically beyond comprehension.
Yet he had watched the entire spectacle from above, from the moment the True Demon manifested in the mortal realm to indiscriminately slaughter the soldiers, right up until Yeonil descended like a falling star to effortlessly subdue the beast.
Something isn't right.
By all conventional logic known to him, that man down there shouldn't exist in this world. Even factoring in the element of surprise, it was utterly inconceivable for a solitary human to fell a True Demon with such casual ease.
Is he the protagonist? No, his appearance is completely different from what our intelligence reported.
Had he been the original story's hero or even a prominent supporting character, it might have made some semblance of sense. Yet as far as the robed man knew, Yeonil was someone who had never once graced the pages or screens of Blue Fantasy.
A knot of confusion tightened in his mind. The moment their faction stepped into this realm, its original destiny was bound to warp—that much was inevitable. Even so, the premature emergence of such an unaccounted variable was an unwelcome complication.
"Why are you watching so intently?"
A voice rang out from directly behind him—more than thirty kilometers up in the freezing stratosphere.
Startled, the robed man whipped around.
There stood Yeonil, treading upon the empty air as nonchalantly as if he were walking down a paved street.
"What—?!"
"Did you need something from me?" Yeonil asked, his expression calm and unbothered.
At this altitude, the air should have been so thin that breathing alone would be agonizing, yet Yeonil displayed not the slightest hint of discomfort. More than that, he was casually initiating a conversation.
Did he detect my presence from that distance?
What manner of sensory perception was this? Even among the most acutely attuned martial masters of the Murim, such awareness was virtually impossible. His sheer speed was terrifying enough, but what truly sent a chill down the man's spine was the fact that he hadn't heard a single sound or sensed the faintest presence until Yeonil was breathing down his neck.
"…How is it that someone like you is entirely unknown?"
"I don't follow your intent," Yeonil replied.
Not that Yeonil was one to boast, but he was actually quite famous. It was possible for someone not to know him, of course, but phrasing it as 'How is it that someone like you is unknown?' struck him as oddly specific.
"Are you… not a being of this world?"
"……"
Yeonil said nothing. Why would he say such a thing? Though inwardly taken aback, Yeonil gave no outward sign of his surprise.
To the robed man, however, that heavy silence was answer enough.
"Ah, so that's it. That explains everything. You're a dimension traveler, aren't you?"
The mystery resolved far more neatly than expected, and a wave of relief washed over the man.
"A dimension traveler? Who are—"
"Blue Fantasy."
The unexpected words hit Yeonil like a physical blow, temporarily numbing his thoughts.
Not that a trace of it showed on his face. It wasn't an intentional poker face so much as Yeonil's natural disposition; emotions simply rarely surfaced on his features. While an overwhelming surge of feeling could evoke a dramatic reaction from him, under normal circumstances, his facial muscles barely stirred.
Consequently, those unfamiliar with him often found him unapproachable, with some even mistaking him for a cold-blooded man of iron. The reality was quite the opposite—Yeonil was actually a profoundly sentimental soul.
The problem was that, true to form, Yeonil remained foolishly tight-lipped. He was far too honest a man to deflect with denials or feign ignorance.
"As far as I know, the protagonist of Blue Fantasy is a grey-haired boy named Shion," the man remarked. "Not a walking mountain of muscle like you."
It was true. The protagonist of Blue Fantasy was indeed a grey-haired youth named Shion. Between the mysterious secret of his birth and his unwavering pursuit of righteousness, he was the quintessential hero. In that regard, Yeonil couldn't be further from a traditional protagonist.
"I'm no protagonist," Yeonil said flatly. "Nor have I ever claimed to be."
"Then isn't it bizarre for someone who isn't even the protagonist to chop up True Demons so effortlessly? You aren't some legendary named side character, either. Besides, this world has an absurdly low number of truly strong individuals for a specific reason, doesn't it?"
"……"
"I thought it was strange that someone like you never showed up in the original work. Well, let's set aside who the protagonist is for now. That isn't what matters right now."
"…How do you know about Blue Fantasy?"
Even if his face remained stone-still, Yeonil couldn't completely steady the tremor in his voice. That faint waver was all the confirmation the man needed.
"Allow me to introduce myself first."
The man lowered his hood, revealing his features. In stark contrast to Yeonil's imposing presence, his appearance was rather ordinary: black hair cut to a moderate length, heterochromatic eyes, and a pleasant, approachable countenance. Yeonil, however, never judged anyone by their looks. In fact, he could already tell that this face wasn't the man's true form to begin with.
"Pleasure to meet you. My name is Tom. I'm a dimension traveler from beyond this world—just like you."
A fellow traveler from another dimension.
The phrase implied they shared a similar circumstance, yet Yeonil felt suspicion rather than kinship. Perhaps it was sheer instinct. After surviving as much as he had, Yeonil possessed a keen sense for discerning danger, able to gauge whether someone was a threat even if they masked every shred of hostility or bloodlust.
And through Yeonil's eyes, Tom was exceptionally dangerous.
"…I am Yeonil. Why have you come here? And how do you know about Blue Fantasy?"
"Don't be so prickly," Tom chuckled. "As for why I'm here… you could say I'm a scout. A certain amount of preliminary reconnaissance is simply standard procedure."
Even with Tom's frank admission, Yeonil found no reassurance. A scout was an operative tasked with surveying enemy terrain and assessing their strength; no one in their right mind would view such a role favorably.
"For now, it's enough for you to understand that our side possesses the means to learn about the original narratives underlying these worlds. I'm afraid I can't tell you much more than that."
"…Why send a scout here in the first place?" Yeonil's tone hardened. Tom's self-designation as a scout laid bare the fact that his faction viewed this realm as potential enemy territory.
"You surely know this already," Tom continued. "This world is a Mimesis derived from the game called Blue Fantasy. Naturally, not every minute detail mirrors the game perfectly, but it shares the overarching incidents, lore, and fundamental laws of physics."
"……"
"The crucial part is that this world isn't an isolated case. It's the same for other worlds as well."
"What are you getting at?"
"Every single world is nothing more than a derivative manifestation born from mere stories!"
Tom threw his arms wide. It was no combat stance, merely a dramatic gesture born of escalating fervor.
"The world and the lives of the people who inhabit it are entirely predetermined! We are all slaves to destiny!"
"……"
"And our purpose is to liberate and save these pitiful, wretched souls—to restore their lives, their dignity! And I am the scout dispatched here to ensure that grand work proceeds smoothly."
The gleam in Tom's eyes was unmistakably that of a fanatic—a look Yeonil had seen far too often lately.
"How?"
"Hmm?"
"How do you propose to liberate everyone from destiny?"
Yeonil had no illusions about the response. In truth, he already anticipated what would spill from the man's lips, but he asked nonetheless to confirm his suspicions.
"The answer is simple: return all existence to nothingness. If nothing exists, there is no predetermined fate to suffer through. In doing so, everyone attains eternal peace."
"Even if the people do not desire it?"
"This isn't a matter of personal preference," Tom countered dismissively. "Do we indulge criminals simply because they don't wish to obey the law? Do we keep feeding drugs to addicts just because they don't want to quit?"
"That's pure sophistry. What you're preaching is no different from slaughtering the living under the pretext that life is simply too painful."
"Yet they, too, would fall into utter despair if they knew their entire lives were nothing but programmed choreography, moving like marionettes on strings."
Reason was utterly wasted on him. In Tom's eyes, Yeonil saw the blind fever of fanatical conviction. A man with eyes like that could never be swayed by words.
"…Why are you telling me this?"
"To offer you a chance." Tom locked eyes with Yeonil. "This realm is a world derived from the story of Blue Fantasy. And it is a world destined for total annihilation."
"How can you be so certain?"
"Causality dictates it. In an uncompleted world, miracles do not exist."
"What?"
"I mean there are no plot twists," Tom said. "A world hurtling toward ruin will simply collapse under the sheer inertia of its premise, exactly as it was headed. Because Blue Fantasy is an uncompleted tale."
That was something Yeonil had never heard before.
"Think about it! In most stories, an insurmountable foe appears—an enemy that seems impossible to defeat. Yet in almost every tale, the heroes manage to win anyway. Why?"
"That's…"
Love, friendship, perseverance…
Such notions crossed Yeonil's mind for a fleeting second, but that was hardly the answer Tom was looking for.
"The reason is simple: because the author willed it so. Some call it plot armor or protagonist privileges, but fundamentally, the impossible becomes possible only through the binding force of authorial destiny."
Yeonil remained silent, which Tom took as tacit agreement.
"That is precisely why this world is doomed. The narrative of this realm was never granted a proper conclusion. Before long, the banished Demon God will return, and the protagonist and his companions won't be able to stop him. Because no karma or causality was ever written into this world to allow his defeat!"
Yeonil understood what Tom meant all too well.
For reasons unknown, live service for Blue Fantasy had been abruptly terminated midway through its run. The game's final update had been thoroughly hopeless: Demon God Astaroth, banished at the end of the ancient war, broke his seal and returned, unleashing transcendent power that pulverized half the continent in an instant.
In their desperation, certain factions broke the seal of the evil Sun God Hyperion to resurrect him as a countermeasure, but that price plunged humanity into even deeper catastrophe. That was where the story had halted when the servers shut down forever.
The Sun God was a patricidal monster who had slaughtered his fellow deities and murdered his own mother, the Creator, all to become the sole supreme deity. Furthermore, he sought to reduce the humans forged by the gods into mere cattle capable of nothing but blind worship. Even knowing this hideous truth, mortals had sought to resurrect him out of sheer, paralyzing terror of the Demon God's descent.
For Demon God Astaroth was what one would call the World's Strongest.
Even though the protagonist and his party had grown through countless trials, the gulf between their strength and that of enemies like the Demon God and the Sun God remained as vast as heaven and earth. Conventional means stood no chance of bridging it.
Under normal circumstances, the plot would have introduced some legendary power or miraculous artifact, or perhaps engineered a scenario where the Demon God's power was diminished, forging a narrow path to victory. Just as Yeonil himself had once experienced in his past life.
Yet Blue Fantasy met its end before the narrative could reach that point.
Which meant that, following the sheer inertia of its uncompleted premise, the world was doomed to be annihilated by the Demon God.
Unless, of course, an unprecedented anomaly intervened.