Kalia, the eldest daughter of the Zenonia territory, had just arrived at the estate and reached the study where the Count was. She found herself once again thinking about a man she had recalled numerous times.

Alon Palatio, who had recently killed all his brothers in the Count’s family and secured the position of heir.

“…’Famous,’ indeed.”

Kalia recalled the look in the man’s eyes as he had gazed at her. Eyes that revealed nothing, as if peering into an abyss beyond the northern lands, indifferent to everything. No matter how many times she thought about it, those eyes sent chills down her arms.

Through those eyes, Kalia realized something: that he was the same “kind” as herself.

In truth, if that were all, Kalia would have stopped thinking about him once he had rejected her proposal. 

Rejecting her proposal essentially meant that they could not be allies, which in turn implied that they were now adversaries.

Despite this, Kalia’s curiosity persisted, all because of something he had said.

“…‘Famous,’ he said.”

The Zenonia family is certainly famous. Even if they didn’t involve themselves in politics, the financial and physical power the Zenonia family wielded was strong enough to overturn the current state of the kingdom at least once.

However, that renown ultimately belonged to the Count of Zenonia himself, not to the Zenonia family as a whole, and certainly not to Kalia.

Yet Alon had spoken of it.

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He had referred to her so clearly and distinctly.

In a situation where far more nobles had never seen her face, having only attended balls twice, he had called her famous.

Not the Count of Zenonia, but her.

Of course, Alon had said this without much thought, recalling her fame as a villain when the original storyline began.

But to her, those words held great importance.

“How intriguing.”

Kalia turned her gaze toward the Count, seated in the study.

The Count was simply processing paperwork in silence.

His head was bowed as if she wasn’t even there, focused solely on his work.

Click, click—

As Kalia walked over to the Count, his eyes naturally rose to meet hers.

The same red eyes as hers stared back at her.

Though he said nothing, the Count’s appearance was brimming with vitality.

—Snap!

At least until Kalia snapped her fingers once.

As soon as the snapping sound echoed, the light vanished from the Count’s eyes.

The eyes that had been so sharp a moment ago turned vacant like those of an idiot, and his tightly closed mouth drooped open, drool trickling out.

The Count was in a state that clearly wasn’t normal.

Kalia mumbled as she stared at “him.”

“How did he know? No one was supposed to know.”

Kalia’s expression was filled with curiosity as she thought of Alon, who had spoken as if he knew the secret she had kept hidden since she turned her father into an imbecile.

“Or maybe he was just taking a shot in the dark?”

With such doubts in mind, Kalia left the study where she had been performing her ongoing act for the past five years.

“K-Kalia, my lady.”

“What’s wrong?”

“T-There’s a corpse in your room…!!”

At the sudden outburst, Kalia quickly made her way to her room.

And there—

“Hah…”

She saw it.

The informant she had placed on Alon two weeks ago lay dead, his head twisted around twice, his eyes open wide, unable to find peace even in death.

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“It seems the seal didn’t activate, so it doesn’t appear he revealed any secrets.”

This was the report from one of the knights.

‘The informant didn’t leak any secrets, yet they brought his body into my room…’

Reflecting on this, Kalia let out a sigh.

She felt her suspicions turn into a certainty.

“…Looks like he found a big weakness of mine right after we met.”

She murmured with a smile.

***

Evan grimaced as he looked at the golems glowing bright red in the darkness of the night.

Having worked as a mercenary for over 15 years since childhood, his eyes moved busily, trying to locate the golems’ weak points, yet he couldn’t hide his anxiety.

He was confident in his skills, but precisely because of that, he was even more cautious of the unknown entities before him.

He had experienced firsthand just how much danger something unknown could pose.

Moreover, he had someone to protect at the moment.

Facing unknown enemies whose characteristics he didn’t even know was the worst-case scenario.

To make matters worse, the number of enemies appeared to be easily over twenty. As Evan pondered how to handle the situation,

“I’ll handle this.”

“Huh…?”

He responded absentmindedly to the sudden voice, watching as Alon, without him realizing it, stepped forward.

His expression was as indifferent as it had been when they entered the labyrinth.

Evan found Alon incredibly mysterious and intriguing all over again.

He was genuinely puzzled at how his master could maintain such an expression even in this situation.

At least from Evan’s perspective, the current situation was quite a crisis.

In front of them were over twenty human-shaped golems that clearly needed to be dealt with, and it was certain that each one of them possessed considerable combat power.

Yet, even in such a situation, Alon had stepped forward, saying he would handle them.

To speak honestly about his thoughts, Evan didn’t believe that Alon could deal with the golems before them.

Of course, Evan knew that Alon was no ordinary person and that he had a talent for magic.

He had become a respectable magician, reaching the 2nd Rank through self-study without a mentor.

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However, impressive as that might be by general standards, it didn’t mean that such accomplishments would be enough for this kind of situation.

While it was true that he had reached the 2nd Rank through his own efforts at a young age, even a mere golem in front of him would be difficult to handle with just that level of power.

Thud!

As soon as these thoughts crossed his mind, the golems, which had been standing still, as if assessing their targets, suddenly moved and started rushing toward Alon.

And then,

“I enact the Constraint.”

Alon’s voice resounded like a declaration.

***

As Alon murmured the incantation, the world seemed to come to a halt.

His vision turned black and white, and the movements of the golems charging at him felt as though they were being recorded by a high-speed camera.

And then—

[A fragment inheriting the great will of Niacula, state the two Constraints you wish to impose.]

A grand voice that seemed to shake the entire space echoed in his mind.

It sounded both like a man and a woman, a child and an old person.

As he heard it, a brief cold sweat ran down Alon’s face.

‘As expected, it’s different from the game.’

The artifact called “Constraint” that Alon obtained from the Whispering Labyrinth was just as its name suggested: it imposed limitations on the user in exchange for an equivalent reward.

Once activated, numerous options would appear before him.

A notification window would prompt him to choose what constraints to impose and what rewards to receive.

However, reminding him that this was indeed reality, what appeared before him was not a notification window, but a voice.

A voice that, just by listening to it, made his head spin and his heart race, filling him with an unsettling sense of dread as if his heart might explode at any moment.

Letting out a deep sigh, Alon forcibly steadied his trembling heart and voiced the constraints he had in mind.

“One.”

[State your constraint.]

“The use of magic requires the absolute execution of Babylonian hand signs.”

[What do you wish to gain from this?]

“Power that can slightly twist the laws of the world.”

[Granted.]

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“And one more.”

[State your constraint.]

“The use of magic requires the limited execution of the great Babylonian incantations.”

[What do you wish to gain from this?]

“The same as before.”

[…]

Following Alon’s words, the voice fell silent for a moment.

The slow-moving foot of a golem lifted into the air and then returned to the ground.

Alon wondered if he had made a mistake.

[I accept.]

As if dispelling his concerns, the majestic voice from the heavens spoke words of affirmation.

[To you, who remember the hand signs and mysteries of a forgotten great god, I offer my gratitude for inheriting the will.]

The voice conveyed this message to Alon.

“…?”

Alon’s expression turned puzzled at this.

Although his face remained expressionless outwardly, Alon’s eyes were full of questions.

‘Inheriting the will? What does that mean?’

Naturally, Alon had no clue about any of that.

The reason he chose the Babylonian hand signs and incantations as his constraints was simple.

In the game, these two choices provided the highest possible magic attack power in return.

Moreover, he had chosen these constraints so often that he had naturally memorized the Babylonian hand signs and incantations.

Of course, he wasn’t a genius, so he hadn’t memorized all the signs and incantations he’d seen in the game, but he didn’t feel burdened by it.

Alon knew where the Babylonian hand signs and incantations were written.

Therefore, while the voice from the heavens puzzled Alon, it was only for a moment.

[I will always be watching. You, who inherit the will.]

As Alon realized that the black-and-white world was gradually returning to its original state, he recognized that reality had resumed.

He raised his hand to test the constraints while observing the golems charging at him from a distance

***

At the same time, mana began to flow from Alon’s body, coursing through his heart and gathering at his raised fingertips.

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The mana gathered at his fingertips was faint.

Even though he was drawing on all the mana his body possessed, the orb of lightning, which should have been shining brightly according to the description in the book, only emitted a dim glow, like the last light of a dying old man.

However, Alon felt neither disappointment nor surprise.

He was acutely aware that this was the limitation of Alon, the third son of the Palatio family.

Nonetheless—

“Refraction.”

The moment he uttered those words, matching his recitation,

“Rebound.”

The small orb distorted into chaotic lines.

“Blue Light.”

With a crackling sound, it began to emit a blue light. The small orb transformed into hundreds, thousands of lines, creating a nonlinear light source that sparked and crackled.

A light source that emitted a blue glow so cold it almost hurt to look at.

Simultaneously, Alon formed a hand sign.

His thumb covered his middle finger.

It was a stance resembling the gesture used to flick one’s forehead.

However, Alon flipped his hand around, forming a posture reminiscent of the Buddha’s dharma wheel gesture.

With that, he looked at the golem that had already reached him and declared the final incantation.

“Linear Diffraction.”

When the blue light momentarily banished the darkness—

Snap!

He snapped his fingers, and a flash of light was released.

—Fwoosh!

There was no sound.

All that could be heard was the faint whooshing noise following the flash, and what could be seen were the golems frozen as if time had stopped after the dazzling light illuminated the ravine.

And then—

Crack—Crackle!

The dozens of golems collapsed without any resistance, crumbling into piles of stones.

Evan, who had been rushing to fend off the golems attacking Alon, stood there with his mouth agape, stunned.

“What in the world…?”

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He muttered, disbelief clear in his voice.