The Siberian snowfield was blanketed entirely in white snow.

Hovering above this vast expanse was the Moon of the Snowfield, a powerful object.

The presence of the Moon, with its massive world-encompassing effect, had caused other objects around Siberia to vanish from sight.

Humans, too, had disappeared from the region.

After people and drones sent to investigate the anomaly had been swallowed by the snowfield, no one dared approach again.

Yet, at some point, Golden Reapers began gathering one by one on the desolate snowfield.

They had received word from a Golden Reaper who had closely observed the strange behavior of the Sprout Reapers.

And just as expected, following the light emitted by the Sprout Reapers, they found the Gray Reaper, who had once teased the Golden Reapers and fled.

The Gray Reaper stood there, head tilted upward, gazing blankly at the Moon as if it were staring at the sky itself.

‘It’s Mom!’

‘Mom is here!’

Initially, the Golden Reapers had raced all the way from Korea to this far-off Siberia, furious and bent on revenge. But now, upon seeing Mom after so long, they couldn’t hide their joy.

Happy to see Mom again, the Golden Reapers glanced at each other and began to sneakily inch closer to where she stood.

They would sneak up, hug her ankle, and then quickly let go, only to repeat the process over and over.

Once they had all sufficiently replenished their "Mom" essence, one of the Golden Reapers made a large snowball, emitting a determined thought.

‘Let’s build a snowman!’

It was a cute yet ruthless idea to turn the teasing Mom into a snowman.

The other Golden Reapers found the idea amusing and began rolling snowballs, and soon, the Gray Reaper was being buried in snow.

After a while, the Gray Reaper had become a large snowman created by the Golden Reapers.

‘Mom is wearing clothes!’

‘Mom, the snowman!’

The Golden Reapers were delighted, laughing endlessly as they sat around the snowman-like Gray Reaper, marveling at the sight of Mom dressed in something she usually never wore.

The death of the purple moon had left the sky dead.

A broken, blackened purple moon floated ominously in a sky devoid of sun and stars.

The surface of the moon was cracked and fragmented as though it would shatter at any moment, with evolutionary fluid continuously seeping from the gaps.

The fluid flowed like a waterfall, pouring toward the vast sinkhole where the purple city had once been.

Looking down into the bottomless sinkhole, I could see the fluid filling it, surging up from its depths.

The Jaw Beam had been so powerful that the hole left in place of the purple city was immensely deep.

It was so deep, in fact, that it would likely take at least a month for the evolutionary fluid to fill it entirely.

Despite the fluid pouring with more force than any waterfall I’d seen on Earth, it would take time.

‘Mom!’

‘Mom!’

The tiny Mini Sprout Reapers, smaller versions of the original Sprout Reaper, clung to me as I looked down into the sinkhole.

The original Sprout Reaper had completed its task and immediately buried itself in the ground, falling quietly asleep.

The Mini Sprout Reapers clung tightly to my fingers or hair, staring at my face as if seeing their mother for the first time.

Looking down at the Sprout Reapers with their bright, innocent expressions, I found myself lost in thought.

‘I want to throw these Sprout Reapers into the sinkhole.’

Remembering the Golden Reaper’s reaction last time, it would make for a fun prank!

But, unfortunately, aside from the Golden Reapers, I wasn’t sure if the Mini Reapers were resistant to evolutionary fluid.

It would be amusing if it were just some gross-smelling liquid, but it melted the Mini Reapers—such a shame.

‘Mom, are you sick?’

One of the Sprout Reapers, noticing my furrowed brow from overthinking, sent me a concerned thought.

As expected, the Mini Sprout Reapers were as sweet as me, their parent.

...

...

...

Since they’re so sweet, maybe they’d forgive me if I threw them in just once?

As I pondered the mischievous possibilities, I noticed a peculiar Mini Reaper hidden among the Sprout Reapers.

It was mostly purple, with spiral horns resembling a sheep's, hanging beside its head like purple shells.

The Purple Reaper had disguised itself as a Sprout Reaper, covered in a shadow of mental pollution.

But when it realized I’d noticed, it shed its disguise, making a flashy jump and landing with a striking pose.

‘A new sibling!’

‘A new sibling!’

The Sprout Reapers quickly noticed too, causing a stir as they excitedly welcomed the newcomer.

I watched the Purple Reapers as they rescued people who had been caught up in the "Nameless" disaster.

Their actions were both strange and extravagant, making them fun to watch.

With a wave of their hands, the Purple Reapers submerged a massive boulder into shadow, only for it to reappear elsewhere.

They sliced through space like martial arts actors, cutting down obstacles.

When a hungry child began to cry, the Purple Reaper created marshmallows out of shadows with a smug expression.

It felt like watching a movie, and I couldn’t help but clap quietly.

The Purple Reapers seemed to have the ability to manipulate shadows.

They spread their shadows, doing anything within them, similar to how my Mini Reapers worked.

In terms of abilities, the Purple Moon certainly lived up to the title of "strongest."

The power to control space?

The Purple Reapers, wrapped in shadows except for their heads, always seemed to be hiding something.

Even during breaks, they would pair up and spar, as if acting out a martial arts movie.

But I knew a secret about these sparring matches.

They weren’t actually sparring for leisure; it was essential for using their abilities.

I’d discovered this while exploring near the sinkhole.

‘Help!’

A faint call for help suddenly reached me.

Curious, I approached and found a Purple Reaper trapped under a large rock.

‘Can’t they just move the rock using their spatial control?’

As I thought that, other Purple Reapers arrived, and they began smacking the trapped Purple Reaper’s chubby cheeks, not playfully but with real intensity.

The blow seemed to spark something, and the trapped Reaper’s purple shell began to glow brighter, lifting the rock through sheer willpower.

I saw this a few more times—one of them would cry for help, and they’d exchange punches to recharge.

After watching closely, I finally understood.

The Purple Reaper’s spatial control wasn’t powered by kindling.

The Reapers had another ability besides controlling space—energy conversion.

They absorbed energy to transform it into their own power.

Judging by how long it took to recharge with punches, it didn’t seem very efficient.

Additionally, the energy they absorbed was so volatile they couldn’t store it, so they had to keep exchanging hits to maintain it.

When alone, they’d exchange punches like my Mini Reapers.

When in a crowd, they’d pretend to spar while recharging.

Shockingly, these Purple Reapers were simply pretentious Mini Reapers.

Near the remnants of the city lay a temporary camp filled with tired and injured people.

At the center was a large, round mound of marshmallow, burning brightly.

Nearby, a marshmallow house had been assembled, with blocks skewered on sticks and stacked high.

There were marshmallows everywhere.

The blue-haired girl, enjoying the warmth by the fire, gently petted a purple Magic Tome nestled in her arms.

‘It’s all thanks to these little ones.’

Though I couldn’t help but wonder, ‘Why all marshmallows?’ it seemed that marshmallows were the only thing the purple Magic Tome could create.

Every element of this camp was crafted by these tiny beings.

The Purple Tome had rescued people by cutting and moving rocks with great strength.

And the Sprout Reapers toddled around, distributing marshmallows neatly cut for eating.

The appearance of the "Magic Tome That Killed a God."

The city, which was once their home, now gone.

An enormous number of casualties.

Despite the situation, where an ominous Magic Tome was handing out snacks, the camp atmosphere wasn’t bad.

The dreamlike mix of the Tome’s mental pollution and its cute appearance likely contributed.

Small laughter echoed throughout the camp.

It seemed like once these beings vanished, people would wake up to the cold reality again.

As I looked over at the black-and-white-clad girl asleep by the fire, I thought about how everything might disappear by morning.

Using a cushion-sized marshmallow in the shape of a white Jaw as a pillow, I lay down.

And as I petted the hard, unconscious Jaw, I thought.

‘I want a soft Jaw.’

Determined to one day create one through research, the blue-haired girl drifted into a deep sleep.

The blue-haired girl awoke to the morning sun, gazing over the now cold, empty campsite.

The camp, which had once felt like it was under the moon’s protection against the cold, was now filled with a creeping chill.

‘They’ve gone.’

The marshmallow campfire.

The tasty marshmallows they’d eaten.

The marshmallow mat spread on the ground.

The Magic Tomes who moved it all with their little hands and feet.

And the black-and-white-clad girl who had brought all these miracles—gone.

It felt like the girl’s voice still lingered in her ears.

‘The dream is over now.’

‘I guess it’s time to go.’

Perhaps, just as the girl had said, everything that happened in the city felt like a dream.

"Master. Wake up!"

Now it was time to live in reality again.

As an alchemist who protects people, there was much to do.

The shattered moon.

The black waterfall descending from the sky.

And from that place, now devoid of people fleeing the cold, a giant blackened arm began to rise slowly.

The Gray Reaper called it "Nameless."

The blue-haired girl called it the "Magic Tome That Killed a God."

Though the "Nameless" had completely dissolved in the evolutionary fluid, it staggered as it began to emerge once more.

But this time, it seemed different.

To erase the name of a god.

To obliterate faith.

The "Magic Tome That Killed a God" moved relentlessly, gazing beyond this world.

Perhaps toward the far-off place where the Gray Reaper awaited.

Looking in the direction of Earth.