Roughly two weeks remained.

And in that limited time, two things demanded my complete focus.

The first: strengthening my combat capabilities.

If, by any chance, an Apostle appeared—like what I had seen in the trial—there would be very few ways to actually hurt them.

Of course, as things stood, the Apostles were pouring all their power into the revival of the Evil God.

Their energy was steadily leaking away through the rifts, meaning they couldn’t exert their full strength.

But even so, they remained overwhelmingly powerful beings.

In the timeline I’d witnessed, I’d died without being able to properly counter even a weakened Apostle.

Fragments.

Ultimately, everything depended on how well I could use the Fragment.

Securing more fragments wasn’t going to happen.

The heroines—Yu Hana, Cheon Yeoul, Kang Arin—weren’t strong enough yet to make full use of a Fragment, even if they obtained one.

And it wouldn’t be easy for me, either.

But in the end, the only way forward was for me to grow stronger.

The trial version of me could revive after death.

But now?

If I failed, it was over.

Even a single moment of carelessness would lead to death.

Which meant I had to train—without rest, without pause.

The second: Yun Chaeha’s growth.

If I survived the operation, then afterward would come the exchange matches.

That meant Yun Chaeha also needed to grow stronger.

And I figured out a way to handle both goals at once.

During the mentor-mentee program—

After the instructor’s theory class ended, Yun Chaeha lingered awkwardly for a moment before calling out to me.

“Um... by any chance...”

I turned my head to look at her.

“What?”

She opened her mouth to say something but hesitated, fumbling.

Strangely, she only ever acted like this in front of me.

By nature, she was confident and always spoke her mind.

She «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» bit her lip and cautiously asked,

“That technique you used against Medusa... could you show me...?”

Only then did I realize what she really wanted.

It seemed the biggest reason she had transferred to Gaon was probably Catennaccio.

She must’ve held onto a desire to study and analyze that technique ever since.

I’d wondered what her real motive was—now I knew.

I exhaled briefly.

It worked out perfectly.

I needed to practice Phalanx, the variant of Catennaccio, anyway.

And so, smiling, I replied.

“Sure.”

“Really...?”

Her eyes widened.

A mix of surprise and anticipation flickered across her face.

Normally, asking someone to demonstrate a technique was considered rude.

After all, a hero’s technique was their personal asset.

But I didn’t care.

“On one condition.”

Yun Chaeha stared at me intently.

I added slowly, firmly,

“Once you’ve seen it, you’re not going home until you can replicate it.”

Her eyes lit up.

Her face, which should’ve tensed, instead filled with life.

“...Seriously?”

“Yeah.”

At my words, she clenched her fists in excitement.

Like a kid discovering a brand-new toy.

We headed to the training hall.

Specifically, the private chamber deep inside.

Yun Chaeha followed closely behind, glancing around curiously.

“I’m starting.”

I spoke as I walked to the center.

Yun Chaeha nodded once and stood across from me.

I gathered strength in my legs and leapt into the air.

I wove my clones and directed a thrust toward a single point.

Then—

At that exact moment, the clones and the spear aligned into one unified strike.

Phalanx.

BOOM!

A shockwave sharp enough to rip the air.

As the spear cut through the space, the wall split open, and clouds of dust spiraled upward.

Even though the training room had auto-repair functions, this had clearly surpassed its safety threshold.

I landed back on the ground.

Across from me, Yun Chaeha was panting heavily.

“Haah... Haah...”

Even through the harsh breathing, her crimson eyes still burned with fire.

She hadn’t missed a single moment of the technique.

She must’ve burned through an absurd amount of mana just to analyze it.

Her eyes sparkled.

“That... at the end... you changed it, right...?”

Her fingertips trembled slightly.

“Yeah.”

I gave a short reply.

The moment I spoke, Yun Chaeha exhaled deeply and wiped the sweat from her forehead.

And yet—her lips curled into a faint smile.

She raised her hand and began tracing the arc of the spear through the air.

As if trying to perfectly replicate what she had just seen.

I watched quietly, then rose to my feet.

She was already diving headfirst into her own world.

***

Late at night—more like early dawn.

Cheon Yeoul was checking every private training hall one by one.

“Where the hell is he?”

Of course, she was looking for Jeong Haein.

She’d waited for ages at the dorm entrance with a surprise gift in hand, but he never showed up.

After hours of waiting, she came to a single conclusion:

She had to go find him herself.

She knew full well how much of a training addict he was.

Which meant it was pretty obvious where he’d be at this hour.

Cheon Yeoul began checking halls starting from A.

By the time she reached C, a wave of unease hit her.

“...If he’s not in the next one...”

And finally—

Hall D.

She grabbed the handle.

Clunk.

“...?”

The door wouldn’t open.

Her eyes narrowed.

At this hour, it was rare for a training room to be locked.

Thud. Thud.

Sounds from inside.

She pressed her ear to the door to listen more closely.

Voices. Mixed male and female.

“What the—!”

The male voice—unmistakably Jeong Haein.

No room for hesitation. Cheon Yeoul forced the door open.

The moment the door cracked open, a wave of hot air burst out from the sealed room.

She reflexively inhaled.

Sniff.

One was the familiar scent she liked—Jeong Haein’s.

But the other... an irritating scent she’d never smelled before. Belonging to some other girl.

Her face stiffened.

Late at night. Sealed training room. Man and woman. Just the two of them.

The temperature was high. The air oddly damp.

For a split second, a foul, unwanted thought crossed her mind.

Her heart sank.

Without thinking, she charged in.

But the sight that met her eyes—

Was enough to leave her completely dumbfounded.

Jeong Haein was standing tall, slashing through the air with his spear.

And some blonde-haired lunatic was waving her hands in the air like a maniac.

What... the hell is this...

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

At that moment, Jeong Haein seemed to notice the presence and turned his head.

“Cheon Yeoul?”

She swiftly composed herself. Calm. Elegant.

And then—

“There you are!”

She waved brightly, flashing a dazzling smile.

***

At the edge of the world—

a place no human could ever reach.

Beyond that boundary lay a forbidden space, one that had existed since the dawn of time, yet remained unknown to all.

At its center stood a crumbling temple, cracked and teetering on collapse.

And at the very heart of that temple—

The Round Table.

There were only ten seats here.

The Fourteen Apostles.

They were the enforcers of the divine will, the chosen judges of the Absolute.

Only they could sit in this sanctuary.

And at the lowest point of the Round Table—

On a grotesque couch sewn together from human-like forms with threads of red sat a woman, sprawled out with a blank expression.

The demonkind beneath her writhed, barely holding her weight in their collapsing postures.

“What the hell’s taking so long? They summoned us, and now they’re not even showing up?”

Tap, tap. Her fingers flicked lazily, bored.

A voice thick with irritation.

At that moment, one of the demonkin supporting her legs trembled violently.

“Ghhkk—!”

Suddenly, the grotesque couch crumbled.

As the demon’s body collapsed, her leg dropped.

“S-sorry...!”

The demon instantly dropped to its knees and curled into a ball.

But the woman simply smiled gently.

“It’s okay~”

Her hand slowly reached for the demon’s head.

And then—

CRACK!

With a single flick of her wrist, the demon’s head exploded off its shoulders.

“Next~”

She called out indifferently, and another demon scurried from the darkness to support her leg.

“Watch the splatter, damn it. You trying to die?”

A man nearby snapped, annoyance thick in his voice. His eyes glowed a stark, cold white, straining to suppress his rage.

“Sorry~”

“Haaah...”

The man sighed sharply.

“All this for squashing a few bugs? What’s the point of dragging us all here?”

At his words, a low laugh drifted from one side of the table.

“Haha... Still, if He summoned us personally, there must be a reason.”

A white Apostle with no eyes, nose, or mouth. A faint ripple shimmered where his mouth should’ve been.

“Shut it, Blagh.”

“Yesss, yes.”

A red-eyed woman sitting nearby cut him off coldly.

The three of them had received a divine oracle a month ago.

—Exterminate the insects.

His command: to annihilate a specific human faction.

For the three of them, the divine word was absolute.

Even so, they'd each thought it excessive.

To send three Apostles to deal with bugs—

They were too great a blade for so small a task.

Just one Apostle could wipe an entire city from the map with ease.

BOOM.

Then, the massive central doors opened.

A towering figure stepped forward, bringing with him a pressure that warped the very air.

He walked in slowly, speaking only a single word.

“Oracle.”

Every Apostle’s gaze turned toward him at once.

The one who had spoken was the Third Seat of the Fourteen Apostles—Belial.

“You finally showed,” the red-eyed woman murmured with interest.

But Belial offered no response.

He simply spoke again, slowly:

“The flow has collapsed.”

At those words, the atmosphere around the table shifted.

“As such, the target of execution has changed. Not insects—but humans.”

That single statement sent ripples through the entire sanctum.

“Humans?”

“So basically... still insects.”

A low sneer echoed from the far end of the table.

Belial ignored all reactions, steadying his voice once more.

“Therefore, they must be eradicated.”

“...This is the word of our Great One.”

Blood tears began to drip from his eyes.

“And from this moment on, I, Belial, Third Seat of the Apostles, will speak my personal opinion.”

He clenched his fists tightly, trembling.

“The plan of our Great One—”

“Has collapsed, for reasons far beyond our meager comprehension.”

The Apostles stirred.

Even they hadn’t expected such a statement.

The plan of the Omnipotent, broken?

“However.”

Belial’s lips trembled.

“The All-Knowing foresaw even this, and in His grace, has granted us one final opportunity.”

One Apostle clicked their tongue.

“...We are grateful.”

A woman seated opposite the table murmured softly, hands clasped together.

“Moreover.”

“Our Great One, even while bearing the suppression of the world’s balance, has shown us mercy—allowing us to wield our full power.”

The Apostles’ gazes sharpened.

“For our incompetence—”

Belial wiped away the blood tears, letting out a bitter laugh.

“I, Belial, can feel nothing but shame.”

Then—

He spoke slowly, but with certainty.

“Eighth Seat. Ninth Seat. Tenth Seat.”

“The original plan involved three Apostles for the execution—however—”

He corrected himself.

And the final words he spoke—

Changed every Apostle’s expression.

“For this Oracle...”

“The Executors shall number five.”