My sword shadow and Mutia’s hammer wind intertwined.

The apostles did not just stand by as the two of us frolicked.

“Where do you think you’re going!”

“How dare you,”

“Think we’d just leave you be! Heretic King!”

Having fully prepared their stance, the apostles charged in one by one. What lurked in their eyes was neither madness nor blind faith alone.

Their loyalty to the god they believe in.

The rectitude of wanting to repay the blessings bestowed by their god burned fiercely in the eyes of the apostles.

“Remarkable.”

I exclaimed.

“But, I’ve already warned you.”

And with admiration, I swung my sword. Five blades bit into their targets like the fangs of a black snake.

“——!!”

Left eye. Right eye. Vocal cords. Nape of the neck. The five viscera and the six entrails.

Wherever my sword passed, terrible screams followed in its wake.

Places that are unbearable and beyond human tolerance to endure, those were precisely the parts [Pain Without Wounds] gouged out.

“Aaaaaah!”

And it didn’t stop there.

“……! ……!”

I remembered the parts of the apostles I had inflicted pain upon. And every time they gritted their teeth, held back their groans, and charged again, I precisely struck the same spots. I pierced through the pierced spots, and I slashed the slashed spots again.

“Hiyuk, Ugh! Ah, Ah—-.”

Screams. Screams. And more screams.

As Mutia and I engaged in a give-and-take battle, screams flowed chaotically around us.

“You fight with such terrifying efficiency.”

Mutia commented. It was an assessment filled with sarcasm. I decided to return the sarcasm.

“It’s not as efficient as being mobbed.”

“People who insist on non-killing are surprisingly many. However, your method of combat, while not killing, inflicts pain worse than death. Perhaps the very path you take in climbing the tower is such.”

“It’s touching how you think of humans. I would have been more moved if that tenderness reached the guests at the wedding attacked by the Lady of the Golden Silk.”

“Those were not my followers.”

“Is that it?”

“What?”

“I’ve seen your first, second, and third strategies.”

Chaaang!

I parried Mutia’s strike.

“Is it over?”

I charged in.

“Even if you are considered a shining constellation in the Milky Way, that brilliance does not stem from martial prowess.”

Mutia attacked, and I dodged it smoothly.

“Even if your apostles boast of martial might, it’s all thanks to [Indestructible Body]. They are nothing more than those who rush in, trusting in their indestructible bodies. Therefore, they cannot stand as my opponents who can inflict pain on anyone.”

I swung the five swords all at once.

Sword wind.

The swords became a black storm, devastating the area. “Ugh!”, “Ah”, “Mutia, nim!” The apostles let out short screams and were flung far away. Kwang! Dozens were thrown against the colosseum’s walls, the sedimentary rocks.

“I am merely the head of a combat organization that has strived for thousands of years to embody martial prowess in the sword.”

There were apostles who were pushed by the sword pressure but did not fly away. They gritted their teeth and endured. “Eeeek……!” Some pounded the ground with their hammers, using that force to withstand.

Impressive.

Especially for them, I swiftly thrust four swords, one for each.

“My master has once sliced the peak of a snowy mountain with a single stroke of her sword, my son and disciple has conquered the continent with just his body, my daughter and advisor split the earth with a single blow, and my family can bring down the the Magic Tower with a single blow.”

Then, there were no more apostles who could endure.

[The Constellations watching the fight hold their breath.]

[‘The Lone Seeker of Truth’ falls silent.]

[‘The Warhorse of the Eternal Plains’ falls silent.]

[‘The Incarnation of Love and Lust’ falls silent.]

In the midst of an artificially created hell.

I stood proudly, looking down at the constellation that lay on the ground.

“Lastly, I am a descendant of the Sword Emperor.”

“So, I ask you.”

With a grin.

“Is it over now?”

I smiled.

“Then please write a surrender treaty. I’ll give you my pen as a souvenir.”

“How insolent!”

Mutia bared his teeth.

“I will bring about the downfall of your very existence!”

The golden eyes of the constellation flared.

[‘The Ox that Harvests Ruins’ requests an oath from the tower.]

[Designate Sanctuary.]

The golden eyes turned blood-red.

[Approved.]

[From this moment, this place belongs to ‘The Ox that Harvests Ruins’.]

The sky turned red.

[He is the one who destroys and recreates, worship him.]

“He is the one who destroys and recreates, worship him!”

The apostles thrown against the rocks, those groaning in pain on their knees, all chorused as if coughing up their last blood.

“He is the one who destroys and recreates, worship him!”

Once again.

“He is the one who destroys and recreates, worship him!”

The moment the apostles praised their god for the third time.

[‘The Ox that Harvests Ruins’ manifests its power.]

Crack.

Bones throughout my body shattered.

“……!”

It was a familiar sensation. The pain of muscles and blood vessels breaking because they couldn’t withstand the aura. I immediately reduced the flow of aura throughout my body, trying to adapt to this pain.

But it was unnecessary.

‘The aura, it’s gone?’

The aura that frolicked in my veins had evaporated in an instant.

-Kim Zombie!

Strength drained from my body.

-You’ve aged now!

What, could have been asked. What do you mean, could have been retorted. Instead of spending time on questions and counterquestions, I took Bae Hu-ryeong’s words as the plain truth.

I looked at my reflection on the blade.

“…….”

I opened my lips.

“Indeed.”

The voice that flowed from my mouth was clearly mine, yet it somehow sounded a bit worn.

The sword was as clear as a mirror.

“So this is it.”

There was an old man reflected there.

3.

The memories that flashed through my mind.

Were like a broken tape that keeps playing on repeat.

-‘The Ox that Harvests Ruins’ is Mutia.

The Heretic Questioner had said.

-He mainly oversees destruction and recreation.

That memory stayed with me for a long time.

Not because it was a memorable imprint, but rather because it remained as an unresolved mystery.

-Simple, yet powerful!

Why ‘destruction’ and ‘recreation’?

Destruction was simple. Understandable. The sight of the Lady of the Golden Silk swinging her hammer and striking down everything visible was the literal embodiment of a destroyer.

But what about recreation?

-Simple, yet powerful!

Which of the behaviors demonstrated by the Lady of the Golden Silk fit the concept of ‘recreation’?

-Simple, but,

And then I realized.

-Powerful,

What in this world is both destruction and at the same time recreation.

-Isn’t it!

Regression.

Or time itself.

-He mainly oversees destruction and recreation!

Yes.

The Lady of the Golden Silk didn’t need to explicitly show the fragments of recreation.

The fact that Raviel escaped from a future where she became the empress, returned to the past, and where Sylvia captured the prince’s heart while posing as a mere baron’s daughter, was [already] a life recreated.

“—–Time constantly destroys and recreates itself.”

After a brief recollection and quick deduction.

I spoke with a voice laden with the passage of time.

“Handling time. This is your power, isn’t it, Mutia.”

“Truly living up to the name.”

The golden constellation murmured. Unlike before, where there was sarcasm, this time there was genuine admiration in the voice.

“The sword you wield is fierce, but not as sharp as your mind.”

“There was a reason your followers and apostles are so loyal.”

Yes.

Everything made sense.

I lowered the tip of my sword and looked around.

“These are the ones who wished upon you. Not for wealth or health, but for a single desire. To [return to the past]. These are the humans whose wishes were fulfilled.”

“…….”

“Everyone gathered here is a returnee.”

Mutia smiled.

“Indeed so!”

The constellation gripped the hammer tighter.

In this universe, the most valuable thing akin to gold. The god who oversees time, fittingly, had golden hair that fluttered.

“I am the one who harvests from ruins! To those who wander among nothing but debris, I promise again the season of harvest! I am the god who brings about fruition! Heretic King !”

The heavens and earth tremble.

“I am the ruler of reincarnation and the keeper of the aeons, Mutia!”

The layers of sedimentary rock danced as if wagging their tails.

“Kneel! Lowly beings!”

[‘The Ox that Harvests Ruins’ manifests its power.]

[Reincarnation through the aeons.]

[Your timeline will be altered.]

[Your possibilities are fixed.]

“Return to the ruins you came from!”

The world, it dyes into a different landscape.

『If you had never met the Sword Saint.』

The history I walked through is shaken.

『If you had never met the Sword Emperor.』

Softly.

The presence of Bae Hu-ryeong, always snarking by my side, the appearance of the Sword Emperor, suddenly disappears.

The fortunes that were granted to me, one by one, vanished.

And were replaced by the possibilities of some unfortunate timeline.

『If you had never met the Heretic Questioner.』

『If you had never met the Venomous Snake.』

『If you had never met the Count.』

『If you had never met the Crusader.』

『If you had never met the Black Dragon Witch.』

As if layers of sediment are being peeled away.

My timeline is erased, line by line.

『If you had never met the Goddess of Protection.』

Softly.

The holy sword in my hand disappears.

So do the shadows that wandered and guarded around me.

『If you had never met the peony that bloomed in winter.』

The aura pulsating in my veins subsides into nothingness.

『If you had never met the Flame Emperor.』

Even the strength that coursed through my muscles vanishes without a trace.

『If you had simply aged and perished.』

『If.』

Before long.

The surrounding landscape has become desolate.

『If you were simply not the Death King.』

Ruins.

Upon closer inspection, this place was the Harlem district of Babylon.

Was it burned down in a fire?

There were no proper buildings.

As an old man, I settled in this ownerless place, pitching my tent among the decayed beams, and collecting dirty toothbrushes, tattered and yellowed paper cups, crumpled cigarette packets, and junk that couldn’t even be considered antiques.

“Let me say it once more.”

But no matter how desolate the surroundings, I was not as desolate as myself.

Hands that never held a sword.

Feet that never climbed the tower.

A heart that never got intoxicated with victory.

“Kneel before me.”

Cough.

Before me, coughing weakly, stood the golden constellation, towering.

“Make a contract with me. Thus, return to the past before you dared to kill my child.”

“…….”

“Heretic King. Renounce your throne. Abandon your pride. Acknowledge that the power of time is supreme. Then, I shall forgive you.”

“……It’s a pity.”

I coughed and lifted the corners of my mouth.

“What do you mean? Are you lamenting your own arrogance?”

“No……”

Peep.

Somewhere, a crying sound echoed.

“Your power.”

Mutia turned around.

“Because the first time I won in my life…….”

At the foot of the constellation.

There lay a baby fox.

“The first thing I killed was time.”

The moment Mutia’s eyes widened.

『If you had never met your constellation……』

“Sorry.”

The fox spoke.

“There’s no such ‘if.'”

Tick,

“I chose to dream of Gong-ja’s reality.”

The clock turned.

[‘A Music Box Only for You’ manifests its power.]

Tick.

[Universal Sovereign.]

[The universe is vast, yet not so vast that music cannot fill it.]

[I am small, but not so small that I cannot play your song].

[My universe plays only for you.]

A sandstorm blew.

The ruins, the pillars of the ruins, the antiques, all traces of this life, until not even a trace remained, were swept away into the sands of the soil and the desert of time.

Mutia looked around in confusion.

“What…….”

“My power may be insignificant. Though it turned into a worthless relic by Gong-ja-nim. At least, I can protect the reality that Gong-ja-nim walks in.”

The fox smiled with its eyes.

“Scram, long head.”

“This person’s time belongs to me.”

Peep.

I stroked the fox wrapped around my neck like a scarf.

Beside me, Bae Hu-ryeong was still crossing his arms, and in my hand, the holy sword was still gripped, and my feet were still stepped on the 72nd floor.

“So it has come to this.”

My heart was still a heart that beats for victory.

“Now.”

With a grin.

I still smiled as the me of now.

“Shall we finish this, Mutia?”