I was furious.
The power the Abyssal Entity truly began to wield was on a cosmic scale, and if I had been calmer or more rational, I might have despaired and given up everything.
But I was in a state akin to madness, and I hurled every ounce of my strength—exactly as only a madman could—at that absurdly immense being in pure rage.
I tried to use all my mana, all my capabilities as a mage, and every resource at my disposal to block its “attack.”
Looking back, it’s almost laughable.
I was probably the only one there who thought I was blocking its “attack.”
It wasn’t an attack.
[Predator of the Mountains] had only drawn closer. It had not begun any assault.
Was Earth’s gravity pulling me in an attack?
If I jumped from a tall building and died on impact, could I say I died because Earth attacked me?
It had merely been vast and heavy enough to generate gravity, and it had simply approached in my direction.
My actions were no different from a mantis puffing itself up to threaten an oncoming car.
The gap was so absurd that no fight could be said to exist.
Yet I swelled with rage, and my thrashing must have amused [Predator of the Mountains].
Perhaps.
Its true attack began next.
Maybe that wasn’t an attack either—I don’t care to think on it.
That horrific sight still does not fully fade from my mind even now.
Even after four days, recalling its dreadful gaze makes my body tremble—despite the protection of [Abyssal Madness]. It’s not madness; it’s a more primal, pure terror.
The ring of those colossal eyeballs floating in the sky.
The terrifying number of massive eyes covering the heavens, all of them looking at me at once.
In that instant my mind collapsed again, and for a moment I believed I was dead.
With the message that [Abyssal Madness] had activated, I regained my senses.
Perhaps I truly died and was resurrected by some incomprehensible force. I have no resurrection trait, so I couldn’t have really died.
At least that’s what I believed at the time.
If the future me reading this cannot recall that vision, understand at least that what struck me then was that atrocious.
What mattered was the aftermath of ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) its “gaze.”
This was the effect of an Abyssal Entity revealing its true form and attempting an assault. Once more, [Predator of the Mountains] ranks only mid-low among Abyssal Entities.
The following is crucial, so pay heed.
Its gaze—or its power—or some abstract gesture manifested in an invisible, conceptual form that rushed at me with no chance to dodge or counter.
I don’t believe I was struck directly.
Regaining my mind through [Abyssal Madness], I must have simply been overwhelmed and temporarily lost rationality.
But its assault obliterated the region behind me—namely, the entire Yangju City.
Yangju didn’t burn or explode.
It vanished.
The map data, NPCs, and every other piece of information that composed Yangju disappeared instantly, and behind me was a gray void as if an unimplemented area lacking polygons and objects.
Its “attack” arrived without warning and could effortlessly erase an entire city.
It didn’t seem to use any special technique. It was likely just a normal hit—an ordinary attack.
Is there any way to fight such a being?
Perhaps I’ll find the answer in what happened afterward.
Despite the dire situation, the thought that sprang to my mind was absurd.
“Oh, so this really is a game.”
That sight was something you’d only see in a game suffering a severe bug, and that familiarity oddly brought me a fleeting sense of calm.
That paradoxical calm caused me to lose focus, and just as [Predator of the Mountains] intended, my body began to ascend into the sky.
With the onset of flight, the [Abyssal Madness] that had been restoring my mind lost its power.
Naturally, delirium set in.
A rush of ecstasy accompanying total collapse.
“Now I can’t resist.”
Or was it,
“Now I don’t have to resist.”
No.
“Now I don’t have to struggle to stay sane.”
I can’t recall exactly which thought it was—probably one or all of those.
[Predator of the Mountains] extended something toward me that felt infinitely gentle and kind, and in my delirium and ecstasy, I almost accepted its hand.
[Predator of the Mountains] marks those it favors as its pets.
It toys with them at will, drinking their blood, emotions, and souls in small sips. When bored, it discards them like trash into some abyss.
What it offered me was such a gesture. Boldly, it reached out forgiveness and mercy, and I—drunk on collapse, madness, and pleasure—was moments from accepting it without resistance.
Then I saw Jang Hyundeok.
No grand bond of friendship inspired him to bolster my courage.
I was just puzzled.
“Why is that guy fine?”
Though Hyundeok screamed and clung to the Mobile Barrier Generator in delirium, he was unmistakably intact.
He hadn’t suffered the data erasure of Yangju City, nor had his head exploded like Hyeolhu’s.
He was merely in delirium.
Why was Hyundeok unscathed?
I still don’t fully know the reason.
But I was convinced then that it lay not in Hyundeok himself, but in the object beside him.
The [Mobile Barrier Generator].
It contained the mana of [Quiet Watcher], layered with the mana of [Shang Dubu], overlaid with the mana of [Fear Drinker], and infused with the mana of [Predator of the Mountains] obtained from Paju Samneung.
If you add the mana of [Blood Demon King], it was unquestionably an artifact stacking the mana of [Predator of the Mountains] and all its avatars.
The mana of [Blood Demon King]?
It lay strewn about Cheontaedong.
The unexpected effect of the [Mobile Barrier Generator] struck me then with one thought.
“I’ve found a weapon to strike back at it.”
With no proof or precise calculation, I was entranced by that idea, and my brief collapse of rage returned.
I must strike it—with that artifact charged with its mana. Whether it works or not, I don’t care. I just want to hit it. I need to hit something. Even if I die doing it, if I attack it with that, I’ll have no regrets.
With that in mind, I drew on all my mana and resisted, and freed myself from its reach.
I was elated then, but surely someone was aiding me.
Otherwise, I couldn’t have escaped so easily.
At that moment, as if by coincidence, the rocks in Cheontaedong driven by its gravity flew nearby—and, as if equally by coincidence, those rocks contained the mana of [Blood Demon King]. I must consider that connection.
I reached the spot with Hyundeok and the [Mobile Barrier Generator].
Hyundeok remained in delirium beyond help, but as soon as I arrived, I felt my freedom return.
Apparently the [Mobile Barrier Generator] did grant resistance to [Predator of the Mountains]’ influence.
Had I been calmer or more rational, I would have found another use for it.
But I wasn’t in a state to think of that.
Did a message window then obscure my vision? Or not? I can’t recall.
If a message did appear, it likely read something like:
[What do you intend to do?]
Maybe delirious Hyundeok asked me that.
Considering what I said next, someone did question me.
I answered that unknown questioner:
“It’s the grand explosion.”
In an uncertain haze I combined the rocks imbued with [Blood Demon King]’s mana into the [Mobile Barrier Generator] and momentarily wielded more mana than I could control.
It’s odd that [Predator of the Mountains] showed no reaction to my action.
Did it deem me too insignificant? Or perhaps another transcendent force protected me.
All of this occurred amidst delirium as though the sky and earth inverted, unstoppable rage, and absurd inspiration—and is all unclear.
Yet in the next moment—
When I transformed everything in the [Mobile Barrier Generator] into explosive thrust and fired—
My city behind me—Gwangtandong and Bongilcheon—was already annihilated, so perhaps there was some counterattack.
But I ignored that and focused solely on striking it.
It was a grand flight powered by my accumulated rage and madness.
At the same time, I realized I was no longer afraid of flying.
But that was all.
My rage, launched like a rocket or missile, surely dealt it some shock or blow.
But it was no greater than an ant’s jagged mandibles drawing blood from a human fingertip.
An unprepared human might startle and bleed a drop—but no more.
Again, that was the full extent of my attack.
No ant’s thrashing can kill a human or cause irreparable harm.
Yet I was satisfied.
I may have expended a colossal artifact—perhaps my only lifeline—like a mana crystal bomb, but I had landed a strike on that arrogantly omnipotent Abyssal Entity, and moreover on its true form manifested in this world.
“Haahaha, serve you right!”
Or was it,
“You think you can make me bow?”
I seem to recall making some grand declaration in my madness.
Staggering drunkenly in ecstasy and hallucination, I babbled on, felt Hyundeok’s supporting hand, and awaited the death or erasure to come.
Angered [Predator of the Mountains] now intended a truly proper “attack.”
I wasn’t the only one who sensed it—Earth itself trembled and cowered before the cruel violence the Abyssal Entity was about to unleash.
But what returned was not devastating ruin, but a chilling voice from Hyundeok’s lips:
“Truly an astonishing feat.”
It was a surreal tone, as if silk brushed against jade honed over centuries.
There was no mistaking it wasn’t Hyundeok’s voice. Some transcendent being had possessed him.
“You have struck an Abyssal Entity in corporeal form. Regardless of the significance of the blow, merely conceiving such an idea and carrying it out makes you worthy of praise.”
No further deduction is needed.
The tone and content made clear who inhabited Hyundeok’s body.
