Fantasy Dissolution

Ron frowned and immediately tried to pry open the shackles around his feet.

The bronze shackles seemed to have rusted through long ago and came apart easily.

After tossing them aside, Ron looked around. The kerosene lamp cast a dim light, leaving the surroundings shadowy and indistinct.

He could only make out the mottled rust on the iron bars of his cell. Looking farther out, he could barely see several figures slumped in other cells, their chests rising and falling weakly, bronze shackles fastened around their feet just like his.

Who would have thought that the previous era before the Great Cataclysm had resembled the Victorian period from three or four hundred years ago...

But before Ron could think further, he suddenly felt something strange.

It was as if a block of ice had pierced his heart. Coldness was pumped through his body with every beat, and some special power seemed to be flowing into him.

[Detected entry into Version 3.0. Extracting version setting.]

[Setting Extracted: Ashes of the Age of Gods.

After everything from the Age of Gods was banished beyond the stars, the blessings of the gods could no longer descend upon the earth.

As the lingering embers left behind after the Age of Gods burned out, you are merely an ember capable of bearing mysticism.

"The holy pilgrimage that chased the fire has reached its final chapter. Only dying embers remain in our hands."

—One of the Supreme Twelve Pathways, [Existence]'s ▆▆]

[This is a foundational setting of Version 3.0. After loading this setting, you will unlock Magic Vision, gain Mysticism Affinity, and become capable of accommodating extraordinary characteristics.]

Setting extraction? What was that supposed to be?

Ron blinked and looked at the handbook panel. Only then did he realize that his player panel was not simply a measure of his personal abilities; it had other functions as well.

[Player Panel]

Name: Ron

Settings: [Fantasy Dissolution], [Ashes of the Age of Gods] (Not Loaded)

So after arriving in this era, he had gained a new setting?

After seeing the newly extracted setting in the handbook, Ron chose to load it without hesitation.

But the handbook displayed a prompt:

[Detected conflict between "Setting: Fantasy Dissolution" and "Setting: Ashes of the Age of Gods." Continue loading Ashes of the Age of Gods? (Choosing to continue will unload Fantasy Dissolution.)]

[Fantasy Dissolution]? What kind of setting was that?

Ron opened the detailed description.

[Setting: Fantasy Dissolution

After Atina the "Omniscient" hacked the Anti-Mystery Equation into the world, all transcendent fantasies fell into the dust of the mundane.

As a human who has completely erased the influence of the Age of Gods, you are incapable of pursuing mysticism, and mysticism will find it difficult to pursue you.

"On the seventh day, it rested from all its work of creation. And I broke its wings, then sent it to rest."

—Moen Ideal City, Heavenly Hearing Media CEO ▆▆▆.]

[This is a foundational setting of Version 4.0. After loading this setting, you will gain resistance to mysticism, increase your mysticism rejection, and dissolve mysticism's influence upon you.]

Then he would unload it for now.

Ron chose to continue loading Ashes of the Age of Gods without hesitation—his purpose in traveling to this era had been to seek an opportunity to drink a Potion and become an extraordinary individual.

This setting could clearly help him go farther down the path of "mysticism," so there was naturally no reason to refuse it...

[Setting Loaded: Ashes of the Age of Gods]

The next instant, Ron felt the coldness that had merely been flowing through his body merge into his entire being, penetrating deep into his bones and marrow—

A trace of the stars' brilliant colors stained his pupils. Magic Vision was opening, sweeping away the darkness before him.

The kerosene lamp was no longer dim. Instead, it rose with a gloomy green radiance.

Everything in his sight suddenly took on different colors, and all that Ron could see transformed into a new appearance.

The cold iron bars became warm, while the spots Ron had taken for rust turned vivid.

He finally saw his cell clearly... Those bars were not iron at all, but crimson limbs stretched into long, slender shapes, arranged one after another into a barricade.

They were stained with long-dried blood. Looking outside, he could clearly see prisoners in other cells rolling on the ground and howling as they desperately tried to rip off the crimson-shining shackles around their feet, only to tear open their own flesh through excessive force, spraying blood everywhere.

Although piercing howls and screams filled his ears, Ron had no mind to care about them anymore.

Because right in front of him, the corpse he had noticed from the very beginning, slumped in the corner and already rotting with maggots crawling over it...

It was giving off a crimson glow that signified danger. It opened an eye half-eaten away by insects and looked toward him!

What was that thing?

Why did it look so much like the zombie summoned by that magician?!

Only more vicious, more horrifying, and obviously far more terrifying!

Could it be that what the magician had summoned was an extraordinary creature from this era?

Thoughts exploded through Ron's mind. As he watched the rotting corpse notice him and stagger toward him with its claws raised, his pupils trembled. An indescribable sense of chaos surged up from his mind.

At that moment, everything began to blur. Ron clearly felt bone-deep cold crawl up his spine, as though he had fallen into the deep sea and could barely breathe.

His sanity was being steadily worn away. In an instant, even he, who had always been calm, stopped dead in place—

Then the rotting corpse walked toward him step by step until it pressed right up against him!

Red light shone from its decayed eye sockets. It opened a mouth full of rotten teeth and exhaled a rancid stench of decay.

Barely inches away, Ron watched it open its jaws at him. Yellow-green saliva dripped onto his shoulder, bringing waves of burning pain...

Move! Move! Move!

Move, now!

Ron roared inwardly, but his limbs seemed bound in place, utterly unable to move.

Only when a cold notification sounded by his ear did it shatter the haze and chaos in his mind, sever the magic power binding him, and bring him back to his senses:

[Detected that the player's sanity is declining due to unacceptable magic power contamination. Unload Setting: Ashes of the Age of Gods?]

His life was on the line. Of course he would unload it!

Ron snapped back to himself and, in his panic, kicked the rotting corpse.

But the seemingly flimsy corpse was not sent flying as he had expected. Instead, the impact jolted the sole of Ron's foot with pain, as if he had kicked a concrete wall.

If he could not kick it away, then so be it. He used the recoil to leap backward, retreating several quick steps to the railing. Without hesitation, he opened the handbook and unloaded [Ashes of the Age of Gods].

But nothing changed.

Everything before him merely lost its faintly shimmering colors, yet retained its horrifying appearance.

Even the limb barricade, which had previously only wriggled weakly, began to stir restlessly at Ron's approach like sharks smelling blood—

Ron had no doubt that if he got any closer, those limbs would immediately come alive and eagerly tear him to pieces!

But he had nowhere left to go.

The rotting corpse screeched as it rushed before him. Its swollen, clawed hand with protruding finger bones swept past him, leaving behind a distinct rotten stench.

It was the smell of death.

There was no path forward and no way back.

Nearly everything he could touch... could bring certain death!

Why was it still like this?

Cold sweat formed on Ron's forehead. The rotting corpse continued charging toward him, lunging to bite him.

He could almost see it—the next instant, his throat being torn open, his heart ripped apart, and finally his bones picked clean and his body chewed into mangled remains scattered across the ground...

But at the very brink of life and death, he suddenly remembered the shackles he had casually torn apart earlier.

He immediately understood the key.

Mysticism! Mysticism! It was because of resistance to mysticism!

These monsters were themselves the most obvious form of mysticism!

At the instant the rotting corpse lunged at Ron, he clenched his fist and punched its head while tapping the handbook to load [Fantasy Dissolution].

"Bang!"

The sound of a heavy fist striking a sandbag rang out, and then the piercing screech vanished.

The rotten stench was erased in that instant, turning into the grassy smell of moss.

The rotting corpse, which had been as hard as iron, rapidly shriveled and decayed.

The next moment, it collapsed into ash.

Snow-white ash fluttered down, and a black finger bone fell to the ground, bouncing several times with crisp clinking sounds.

At the same time, Ron felt as though his brain had been boiled by searing heat. He was dazed for an instant before recovering a moment later.

Only then did he notice that the flesh-and-blood barricade, the prisoners' wails, the crimson-shining shackles... all of it had suddenly changed.

As though pulled away by the great hand of God Almighty, erased by an eraser wiping clean the world—

The crimson, eerie colors lost all their vitality and returned to their original cold hues.

A high stone-brick wall covered in moss, cold rusted iron railings, and a jet-black finger bone half-buried in white ash, gleaming with a metallic luster.

Outside the window came the whistle of a steam train. The clattering sound echoed through the prison, mixing with Ron's ragged breaths.

He stared at the pile of ash with lingering fear. His mood was far less calm than it had been when he had first traveled here.

He saw the handbook display a prompt:

["Setting: Fantasy Dissolution" is being worn down by excessive "Mysticism Influence."]

[Characteristic Damage: 29%]

[When Characteristic Damage reaches 100%, this setting will temporarily become unequippable. Once you return to the version that generated this setting, the setting will automatically repair itself.]

So [Fantasy Dissolution] had directly erased the mysticism from the rotting corpse at the cost of 29% damage.

That was why it had turned to ash in an instant, as though burned away.

"Ding."

The handbook chimed. Ron looked down and saw new text appearing on the light screen—

[Enemy Defeated: Corpse Shell!]

[Because you defeated an enemy from the world of the "Potion Era," a new record has been unlocked.]

A new record?

Ron saw a new interface appear on the light screen. It displayed a full-color illustration of a giant Corpse Shell resembling the one before him, with several clearly weaker and damaged members of its kind kneeling around it.

[Low-Level Extraordinary Creature: Corpse Shell]

"Perhaps you will encounter such a terrifying monster in an ancient underground prison or a cold, eerie graveyard—

A figure dragging a crippled leg, raising swollen arms and damaged hands, will stagger into your view.

This is a Corpse Shell, an extraordinary creature formed from the corpses of those who died wrongfully."

Inherent Settings—

[Nature of the Dead]: The sinful magic power of [Death] infuses vitality into the remains of the Wronged Dead, reviving them as Corpse Shells. Their resentment causes them to instinctively hate the living and attack every living creature they encounter.

[Ignorant Servant]: As unconscious extraordinary creatures, low-level Corpse Shells can be controlled by stronger, higher-level Corpse Shells that may have awakened intelligence, compelled by magic power guidance and influence to display absolute obedience.

[First defeat of enemy "Corpse Shell." Extracting setting.]

Defeating these monsters could also extract new settings?

This prison was clearly no simple place. There were obviously more monsters waiting for him deeper within...

If he could kill those monsters, would he not gain even more settings?

Ron pondered this as he continued reading the handbook.

[Setting Extracted: Ignorant Servant

The walking dead are merely toys in your palm. You stir the magic power of [Death], drawing upon their unconscious nature.]

[After loading this setting, you will possess the Corpse Shells' special ability to control low-level Corpse Shells that have not developed intelligence.]

Control low-level Corpse Shells that had not developed intelligence?

Seeing this, Ron could not help thinking of the Corpse Shell the magician had summoned with all his strength.

That Corpse Shell had been far weaker than the one Ron had just killed, so it clearly had no possibility of awakening intelligence.

So long as Ron loaded this setting, he could easily control the magician's summon and make it turn against its master...

Then even if he returned to Ideal City now, would he have a chance of defeating the magician?

As Ron considered this, he suddenly noticed a faint glimmer flickering among the ashes left behind by the Corpse Shell.

What was that?

Curious, Ron immediately began searching through the small pile of white ash. After some simple bone-crushing and ash-scattering, he quickly found a finger bone.

The finger bone gave off an icy chill, and deep black stained its crevices.

Presumably, under Magic Vision, this finger bone would be emitting pure black magic power.

What was this thing... something left behind by the Corpse Shell?

Could it be some kind of extraordinary material?

As Ron examined the finger bone, a sudden heat came from his chest. Only then did he remember the magic book he had been holding against his chest all along...

He took out the magic book and found that it could finally be opened—

Unfortunately, only one page could be opened.

When he opened the first page, a passage of text emerged:

[Potion Formula]

[Death] Sequence 9 "Gravekeeper"

"Potion ingredients: One finger bone of a Wronged Dead + one consecrated item + 100 milliliters of pure water + 13 grams of algae + 20g of clotted avian blood."

"Method: Burn the finger bone together with the consecrated item. Heat the mixture of pure water, algae, and blood."

And above that passage, "finger bone of a Wronged Dead" was sparkling!

A Sequence 9... Potion formula?!

Ron stared at the magic book in his hand, then at the finger bone, unable to suppress the indescribable absurdity rising in his heart.

Clearly, this finger bone was the "finger bone of a Wronged Dead" mentioned in the formula.

Who would have thought that the problem of "how to become extraordinary," which had troubled him for more than a decade, would already be half solved within minutes of traveling to this world?

Aside from the "consecrated item," which was obviously difficult to find, gathering the other ingredients in Ideal City would be effortless...

In other words, as long as Ron found a consecrated item in the Potion Era, he could return directly to Ideal City, brew the [Gravekeeper] Potion, and become a Sequence 9 extraordinary individual!

The thought excited him, but after considering it carefully, he calmed down again.

Unfortunately, gathering all the materials would clearly be far more difficult than stumbling into a finger bone by chance.

The blessed item could only be found after escaping the prison, but [Fantasy Dissolution] had a limited duration. Before it was completely worn away, Ron might not even be able to escape the prison.

Especially now that [Fantasy Dissolution] had already been worn down by 29% by a Corpse Shell. If he was unlucky enough to encounter a monster stronger than the Corpse Shell...

Wouldn't Ron have his setting punched through on the spot and be torn to shreds?

At that thought, he cast a slightly wary glance at the rusty bars of the cage.

Though the iron bars looked harmless enough now, Ron had not forgotten the Limb Cage's savage and ostentatious appearance within Magic Vision.

Perhaps... even this cage was stronger than that Corpse Shell.

So, I should return to Ideal City first.

After all, he already had a setting capable of defeating that old magician. As for exploring the prison, he could wait until [Fantasy Dissolution] had fully repaired itself.

With that in mind, Ron placed the finger bone into his pocket. Just as he was about to use the handbook to leave this era, an extremely hoarse voice suddenly sounded by his ear:

"How... did you do it?"

Someone was speaking?

Ron looked toward the source of the voice and, to his shock, discovered that the gaunt figure in the neighboring cell, which had been sprawled on the ground and locked in place by bronze shackles, had actually risen to its feet, trembling!

This person... no, this Zombie that looked as though it had just crawled out of hell—

Now, it was staring fixedly at him with its red-glowing eyes!