Chapter 110

Chapter 110

HEL SCANS

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The imaginary world takes various forms depending on the owner.

Enoch stood tall in a blank white space with nothing.

‘...Ho, a vivid landscape.’

This place is where the boundaries of time and space are completely blurred.

A world where flesh does not exist, only spirits.

Inside the mind of the hero.

Enoch, realizing he had entered safely, grinned from ear to ear.

“I never thought you wouldn’t set up a mental barrier until the end. Foolish one.”

What can we compare his current feelings to?

A miner who discovered a gold vein?

A pilgrim who sought an oasis at the moment of dying of thirst?

No... It cannot be compared to any situation.

‘I can’t believe the hero came into my hands voluntarily.’

Once he set foot here, his victory was already certain.

There is no human in the dream world who can defeat him.

In the real world, the hero may overwhelm him with force, but here, the logic of spirit’s power prevails.

There is a significant difference in the mass of spirits between the demons who live for eternity and humans who cannot even live for a hundred years.

Therefore, the victory of the hero is out of the question.

Enoch, filled with anticipation, walked through the white space.

‘First, I have to devour his memories.’

To perfectly possess the target, it was a necessary procedure.

He looked at the sparkling particles of light flowing beneath his feet.

The memories of the hero.

The moment he thoroughly searched through them, the hero’s body would completely become his.

It wouldn’t take long.

After exhaling a breath filled with anticipation.

Enoch reached out his hand.The original appearance of this chapter can be found at Ñøv€lß1n.

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Tap.

There was a small boy running through a narrow and dark alley.

Avoiding skillfully placed debris and their owners, he stopped.

An entrance leading to a main road.

In front of it, a neat and bustling world unfolded.

The boy looked at the lively street with narrowed eyes, then ran out and collided with a middle-aged man in unusually colorful clothing.

“Ouch!”

“Sorry, sir.”

“You dirty rat. Won’t you just disappear!?”

The middle-aged man wrinkled his nose as if there was filth in front of him.

The boy hurriedly retreated and returned to the back alley.

“Hehe.”

And hiding in the shadow of a partially collapsed stone wall, Enoch confirmed the gains of the adventure.

A bright smile lingered on the face of the boy who discovered several shining silver coins scattered throughout the fairy tale.

“Wow! With this much, I can feed all the kids.”

Ignoring the strong stench wafting from below, the boy laughed happily.

...Enoch, who had been silently observing the whole process, couldn’t help but feel amused.

‘Ha, a pickpocket. I never thought his youth would be so ugly.’

After that, it was similar.

The boy gathered more accomplices and engaged in pickpocketing, occasionally getting into fights with kids from other villages.

Enoch watched it all with a leisurely mind.

Until the sturdy boy, caught using tricks in a gambling den, was beaten and left in a dirty alley... at least that’s how it went.

‘...What?’

Enoch felt a deep sense of disappointment.

By this time, shouldn’t the hero have enrolled at Rosenstark and started to show his promising potential?

‘Should I wait a little longer?’

However, even after examining the memories more, there was no sign of any improvement in his pathetic life.

Stealing, fighting, gambling, women, and alcohol.

That’s all there was.

Enoch, puzzled, hastily traversed through the memories.

Believing that there must be some mistake, he desperately wanted to see the end of the memories.

At the edge of one memory, Enoch was once again taken aback.

“Again... there’s more?”

As soon as one memory ended, another one began playing immediately.

Enoch stared at the particles of light beneath his feet in disbelief.

‘This can’t be.’

It was impossible.

There is only one path for the memories that can exist in a human mind.

It was natural.

Humans embark on a linear journey towards their birth and death.

Therefore, all stored memories must have continuity.

But in this imaginary world, there was another... independent path of memories, different from just now.

For Enoch, who had experienced the imaginations of countless humans, it was the first time.

‘What the heck...?’

Before he could utter another word.

A new memory unfolded in front of him.

“...No, this is not it!”

A young man, sweating like rain, was sitting in front of an easel.

Mixing paints, he continued to paint with a fervor bordering on madness.

‘...An artist?’

His face, pale from not seeing the sun, showed a contradictory mix of a desperate desire for the completion of the work and doubt about its value.

The young man didn’t stop painting for several days.

Despite the physical pain of hunger and cold, he sometimes looked unbelievably happy.

“I have to create a masterpiece....”

...What kind of memory is this, anyway?

Enoch opened his mouth in astonishment.

There was no need for deduction.

It was evident to anyone that this wasn’t the hero’s memory.

‘How?’ How could the hero have several independent paths of memories?

No, rather, a more fundamental question needed to be asked.

But the brief unease vanished with the subsequent provocation.

“Perhaps you enjoy speaking such dream-like nonsense in dreams.”

“Ha, a pierced mouth!”

...All that remained was discomfort.

It felt like watching a bug crawling on his own skin that refused to run away.

Enoch rushed towards the hero.

Kuuuuung-!

A large mountain made of smoke seemed to collapse towards the hero.

Enoch’s plan was simple.

Crush the hero’s mind with overwhelming power, take over his body, and dry up the seed of humanity.

He intended to leave the arrogant one’s ego intact so that he could witness the spectacle with his own eyes.

‘He will regret it for eternity.’

How would it feel to trample on the things he wanted to protect?

Just thinking about it filled him with ecstasy.

Today, he would be reborn.

Kwaaaah-!

Thick smoke rose in the white space.

Enoch, intoxicated with the feeling of victory, waited for it to dissipate.

But what appeared before him was...

The hero, standing unharmed with the black hope.

‘Blocked?’

It was strange.

The overwhelming attack that should have crushed any fragile human’s spiritual entity was unexpectedly blocked just before the direct hit.

At that moment, Enoch realized that there was an unpleasant change in this space.

His pupils trembled slightly.

‘Memories...?’

All the light rays were flowing towards the hero.

The massive blade the hero held, dense with particles of light as if magnetic, attracted them.

Seeing that scene, Enoch involuntarily opened his mouth.

‘...Those can’t be the hero’s memories, right?’

The hero, just like Enoch had done earlier, was boosting the power of his spiritual entity.

It was something logically impossible.

Raising the power required utilizing one’s own imaginary world.

Merely blending in memories brought by deception wouldn’t boost the power.

‘Surely... it’s a trick.’

But why?

The Hero’s aura was rising in real-time, as if mocking him.

To a level of spiritual size that an ordinary human cannot handle.

When Enoch was bewildered and unable to do anything, the Hero spoke.

It was a calm voice, just like before.

“...So it turns out like this.”

He raised the golden-tinged sword wrapped in light beams.

Woo-woo-woo-woong!

Even at that moment, light particles were constantly pouring towards the black hope.

What was now in his hand was no longer a simple sword.

An enormous pillar of light, emitting radiance, was increasing in size in his hand.

A power that cannot be explained by common sense.

Leaving that alone would not be wise.

Enoch summoned all possible powers and rushed forward.

Kwaaaah!

He slashed with his claws, struck with his tail...

He unleashed every method of attack he could.

It was also a blow that he struck with all his might, without thinking about the aftermath.

Kwaaaah!

The space shook as a whole, and light particles fluttered like a storm had hit.

It was a power that could scatter the spiritual body of a dragon, dozens of times more difficult to manipulate than a human.

“...Ah.”

But the light that the Hero wielded did not lose its vitality.

Although the darkness that Enoch embraced momentarily dimmed its radiance, it was only for a moment.

No matter what attack was made, the light beams continued to grow in size and brightness.

...Enoch seemed to realize something at that moment.

“You.”

There was no desire or anger in the hazy eyes.

Only fear of a presence that surpassed his understanding.

“You’re not... human.”

“Yeah, not really.”

There was no need to deny it.

The Hero nodded.

And he fixed his sword.

“But the thing that kills you is a human.”

Immediately after that.

The Hero’s sword descended towards Enoch.

...There was no explosion.

Just as the wave of light quietly approached.

All the negativity disappeared.

“......”

The Hero stood upright, looking at the light falling into the void.

Unbeknownst to him, cracks were forming in the white space.

Particles of light in front of him were now breaking into smaller fragments like grains of sand.

“......”

Tiny and insignificant.

Now, even the traces of humans, who were rare to remember, were gone.

If it were one by one, they might not have dared to stand against the legion commander of the monma.

But when they came together, their power was by no means small.

They became light, they became swords, and they became pillars.

“...It wasn’t a meaningless journey.”

The Hero took in the multitude of light before his eyes.

As they gathered together, they were shining brilliantly.

▼

The Lord of Illusions, Enoch, has been subjugated.

▲

HEL SCANS

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