Barkas was completely lost in the chaos, unable to find his bearings.

He’d detonated his lightning aura.

That alone should’ve been enough to reduce that wretched human to ashes. He’d assumed the man would be blown away, down for good—but even now, he was holding on.

“Grrrrgh...”

Even with the smell of burning flesh thick in the air, the man was still clutching the spear.

A rat’s ambush.

He’d exploited the smallest gap, sunk his fangs in like a beast tearing out the throat.

Barkas’s force field had been torn apart in a single moment.

Why?

He couldn’t comprehend it. It made no sense.

That shield—his force field—was both a blessing and a ban granted by the Great One. A divine commandment. No mere human should be able to pierce it.

But the spear had driven itself deep into his heart. The mana infused in that cursed blade was now preventing the wound from healing.

It was eating away at the injury, slowly and relentlessly. His heart refused to regenerate. The damage only deepened.

He looked down at the man. Already unconscious.

His entire body scorched—he probably couldn’t even stay awake anymore.

And yet, the spear in his hand had not budged.

Meanwhile, all around them, the storm of lightning was dying down.

And the swarm of vermin—waiting.

Even if Barkas managed to shake off this one, those insects would pounce on his weakened state without hesitation.

Eyes gleaming, biding their time. No matter how strong Barkas was, in this condition, he couldn't handle them all.

Death.

The word brushed against his thoughts, and every nerve in his body jolted in alarm.

Absolutely unacceptable.

He couldn’t taint the Great One’s grand plan.

The reason he had even allowed a gap to be struck just now—

Was the shocking news he had just received.

“All Apostles, except Barkas, have retreated.”

He couldn’t believe it.

Every Apostle on the battlefield, except himself, had withdrawn.

It wasn’t a strategic success. It was a forced retreat.

In Barkas’s mind, the idea that any Apostle could lose didn’t even exist.

So he couldn’t understand.

But regardless—he had to survive.

For this execution, the Great One had granted him another authority.

He had once felt disgust at the thought of using it on something so insignificant.

But now, he had no more room for pride.

I will not die here.

At the very least, retreat.

He’d have to settle for withdrawal.

A wall of crackling lightning surrounded him.

Inside it, the space twisted.

With the spear still embedded in his heart, Barkas’s body began to blur.

—Fwip.

Barkas vanished in an instant.

Black lightning surged around Jeong Haein.

And then, both of them disappeared—without a trace.

***

A realm of nothingness where time and space stood still.

Barkas exhaled deeply, savoring the overwhelming sense of safety that now wrapped around him.

He was finally free from the fear of death.

Blood still trickled from his wounds, thick and black-red—but now it didn’t matter.

“...I thank you for your grace...”

He bowed reverently toward the great being who had bestowed this authority upon him.

Kneeling in reverence, he let his loyalty swell within him. After a few minutes, he rose leisurely to his feet.

Now, it was time to crush the insect.

It had been an ambush—

A reckless, all-in strike, ignoring all defense.

He’d let it slip through only because he’d been distracted by that damned report.

If he were to judge objectively—it had been a skilled blow.

For an insect, the execution had been impressive.

But only by human standards.

There shouldn’t have been even a scratch on him. And yet, the spear had pierced his heart.

Mana...

That eerie, unnaturally pure mana had shattered his force field and blocked his regeneration.

“....”

A chilling feeling crept into him.

He had to end this here. Now.

That thought rang clear in his mind.

Barkas walked across the void, toward the insect.

But—

Huh.

He’d expected the man to be sprawled unconscious.

Instead, mocking his expectations—he was sitting upright.

Barely propped up on a tree stump, drenched in blood, but fully awake.

“...Surprising.”

He still had the strength to hold on?

Like a candle whose wick had burned away—but still somehow flickering.

Still, he’d make for a fine outlet for Barkas’s rage.

Then—

“...You did it.”

The man muttered.

His voice was quiet, like a repeated whisper from a broken body.

“What?”

Barkas frowned.

“You really did it... You did well. You’re better than me. Truly.”

It was then that Barkas noticed the man’s expression.

And for the first time, his eyes wavered.

The emotion on the man’s face wasn’t fear.

It wasn’t hatred.

It was... a pure, unfiltered smile.

He was smiling—

Tears of joy streaming down his face, looking like he’d transcended something entirely.

Like someone who had finally cast off all burdens and soared free.

He was crying, yes. But anyone who saw it would know—it was the kind of cry born from happiness.

The man stood up.

—Crack.

A sickening sound echoed from his joints.

The noise of a body pushed far past its limits.

His body was already all but dead.

“Tch.”

So it’s over, huh.

Barkas lost interest.

Sure, the guy had gotten back on his feet—but he was barely a husk.

No reason to waste more time.

He turned his head with disinterest.

Better to focus on what had happened to the other Apostles.

“Back then, and now...”

Then—

A cold voice brushed his ear.

Barkas instinctively turned back.

“...You always run away.”

The man lifted his head slowly. Faint tear streaks still lined his cheeks.

But his eyes—they were completely different.

Even opening his mouth looked painful. His lips trembled violently.

But still, he spoke.

“Your existence... it’s the pinnacle of unfairness.”

Barkas narrowed his gaze.

At first, he ignored it. Brushed it off as nonsense.

But at some point—

The man was holding his spear again.

Same face. Same body.

But not the same person.

Who is this?

It was the same man. And yet—it wasn’t.

“Now, finally...”

He twisted his neck with a slow, cracking sound.

—Crkkk... Snap...

“...the scales feel balanced.”

His lips slowly curled upward.

A crooked smile stretched across the bloodstained, tear-marked face.

“I won’t miss twice.”

—Slip.

In that moment—the man vanished.

Barkas’s arm lifted on its own.

A purely instinctive reaction to defend.

But even that—was too slow.

—CRACK!

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

The figure before him began to distort—and before he knew it, the tip of the spear had pierced straight through his arm.

“You and I were never supposed to meet...”

A whisper laced with mockery, eyes burning with fire.

“So I give thanks to your god... for letting us meet again.”

A scoffing sound followed as he sneered.

“You dare...!”

Barkas’s heart pounded.

He couldn’t fully understand it, but he knew—those words were a blasphemy against the Great One.

He swung his fist in a rush.

His whole body lunged forward.

And then—

—Crack!

“GRAAAAGH!!”

Even that moment of imbalance—he had expected it.

As if he’d been waiting for that precise opening.

The spearpoint skewered the hole in Barkas’s left chest again.

Blood, along with mana, exploded outward in a burst.

Barkas instinctively reached out with his hand—but he couldn’t stop it.

—Crack. Crack. Crack.

Relentless.

Brutally persistent.

Barkas struggled desperately.

He gathered all his strength and detonated lightning.

—KWA-KRACK!!

He shot upward into the air.

His force field surged to the limit, putting distance between them.

“......”

But the man didn’t even look at Barkas leaping away.

He simply raised his hand—quietly.

—Shff. Shff. Shff.

The space twisted. From the ground rose tens of thousands of shapes.

Clones.

And those clones slowly began to converge. Thousands winding together—

Until at last, they formed a single massive spear.

Barkas’s breath caught in his throat.

“What the....”

It wasn’t just one spear.

That spear which had pierced him—

Its power, its numbers—had grown beyond measure.

Fifty...? A hundred...?

There was no need to count.

If even one of those hit, he’d be obliterated—without a trace.

Every spearhead was imbued with that same ominous mana.

This is...

Unacceptable.

But—

There wasn’t even time to hesitate.

In that moment, the man whispered a single word.

“Phalanx.”

And with that—

—KWA-KRAKRAKRAKRAKRAKRAK!!!!!

Light exploded.

Along with a deafening roar, the space twisted.

For a split second—Barkas’s consciousness was obliterated.

***

A man walked toward a vast crater.

A crater deep and wide, like the aftermath of a meteor strike.

He slid down toward the center.

His entire body scorched black by lightning.

From a distance, he looked like he was wearing a robe of shadows.

Willpower—

It was the only thing keeping him moving.

His body had long since reached its limit.

He could’ve collapsed at any time.

But he couldn’t fall—not until it was finished.

A once-in-a-lifetime chance.

He was a being bound by restraint—something that should never have stepped outside.

And yet the one who could bear that restraint had drawn him out by hand.

The Evil God.

That being’s transcendent intuition—

Had, for once, opened the door to opportunity.

Before he knew it, he had reached his target.

The Apostle’s head and arm had been half-blown off.

“Kh... heh... heh heh.”

For some reason, Barkas was laughing.

His blood-smeared lips parted as he let out that eerie chuckle.

“Who would’ve thought... someone like this existed.”

He muttered.

“Something worth reporting... to the Great One.”

His laughter echoed like a lingering shadow.

But the man also smiled.

Barkas could remain so calm—

Because he truly believed he could never die.

This was a place meant to protect him.

They had only ever fought on ground tilted overwhelmingly in their favor.

Disgusting bastards.

Now, it ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) was time to shatter that illusion.

The man squeezed out the last of his strength.

And then—

as if stars in the night sky had vanished—

Everything in that space began to fade.

An infinite space of darkness.

A domain spread wide, engulfing the massive crater.

This man had no shard of divine power.

He had to create everything—just to survive.

He devised, agonized, and clawed desperately through every possibility.

And finally, the level he had reached—

The fangs he created to tear through the Apostles’ divine decrees—

The Silent Ghost’s domain unfolded here.

[Effortless and Formless]

Whether absolute beings, transcendentals, or gods—

It didn’t matter.

Forbidden decrees? Divinity? Space-time?

None of it existed here.

In this domain, all laws were meaningless.

“...Haa.”

The man exhaled.

“...What... is this...?”

Barkas’s face twisted.

“This... can’t be....”

He began crawling across the ground like a maggot.

It felt like all his senses had been severed at once.

He would know—instinctively.

That here, not even the Great One could save him.

In the end, you too, once stripped bare—are just another fragile being.

The man staggered, gripping the spear with both hands.

His arms trembled. But even so—he could still strike it down.

“No... no...!”

Barkas’s hand thrashed, grabbing the man’s leg.

There was no room for hesitation.

If he hesitated even a moment—he’d collapse first.

—Thud!

The spear was pulled from the earth, aimed precisely above Barkas’s head.

And without pause—

“No!!!”

“...It’s done.”

—CRACK!

“...all over.”

Along with his final scream—

The man’s entire body crumbled with him.

And then—

Beyond the dark domain—

The realm of nothingness where time and space had stopped—

Slowly—

Began to collapse.