An Angel

Another Corpse Shell?!

Ron frowned, then quickly dismissed the thought.

Corpse Shells could not talk... It seemed he had merely made himself less human for "some reason."

—Like that old magician in Ideal City, but far more deeply "mutated" than him.

So, was he a prisoner in this prison?

Ron carefully sized up this cheap cellmate who looked like a Zombie at first glance—

His face was pale, his frame gaunt, and a grimy name tag sewn onto his prison uniform bore the name "Kurt Mendes."

He had an unmistakably scholarly air about him, and a dim cross pendant set against an open book page hung around his neck.

Beneath Kurt's skin, characters seemed to writhe faintly, exuding an obvious sense of danger and madness...

Yet at this moment, he stared warily at Ron with his arms folded, unconsciously clenching his knuckles white.

Why was he acting like this... Was he afraid of me?

Although this man seemed somewhat dangerous, if handled properly, he might be a good opportunity to gather information...

After thinking for a moment, Ron deliberately put on an indifferent expression and lowered his voice.

"I have no obligation to tell you."

The cold words echoed in Kurt's ears, confirming his suspicions.

Cold, arrogant... So he really was a high-sequence Beyonder?

Kurt could not understand why someone like this had appeared in the cages of Scorched Earth Sanctuary.

After all, when the Flame-Chasing Knights had thrown him into the prison that morning, he had been as silent as a corpse, without putting up the slightest resistance...

But now, a Corpse Shell—a monster that even a Sequence 9 Beyonder could never handle—had been casually blown apart by a single punch, scattering into ashes across the air!

Could he be from another orthodox god church?

The Lost Church, or the Order Cathedral?

Or perhaps... some other secret gathering?

Kurt cautiously watched the youth in the cage opposite him, his eyes filled with vigilance as he probed without giving anything away.

"Oh, of course, that is your freedom. I have no intention of prying any further...

"After all, someone who can appear here as freely as you do must have plenty of secrets, right?"

An obvious probe.

Because I had just removed my shackles and punched a Corpse Shell apart, he saw me as someone who needed to be tested carefully?

But he was not afraid of me because of it, only wary...

Ron instinctively glanced at the manual. [Fantasy Dissolution] had 71% durability remaining.

That was enough.

He made his decision. After giving Kurt a faint glance, he casually pushed open the rust-covered cell door.

The iron bars looked cold, yet they felt strangely soft and warm to the touch. A light push was enough to open them.

But the instant Ron touched the bars, dizziness washed over him. The rust-covered cell door before his eyes turned scarlet, reverting to the true form of its Limb Cage—

The Limb Cage Ron had touched writhed grotesquely as if scorched by a red-hot branding iron, only to crack apart in an instant...

Then it was effortlessly torn to pieces.

["Setting: Fantasy Dissolution" was being worn away by excessive "Mysticism Influence."]

[Property Damage: 97%]

It had directly increased the damage by 68%?!

Though he had expected it, these Limb Cages were far stronger than the Corpse Shells. Fortunately, [Fantasy Dissolution] still had enough durability left to endure...

In that case, this should be enough to establish my authority, right?

With that thought in mind, Ron walked to Kurt's cell door and calmly looked at him.

Now, compared to his earlier wariness, Kurt's eyes were filled entirely with fear.

Why had such an existence come here?

He had actually left the Corpse-Limb Prison so effortlessly, as though it were nothing—

The Corpse-Limb Prison!

A death prison personally constructed by Beyonders of [War] Sequence 7 and above. Compared to the monsters roaming the prison, the cells themselves were Scorched Earth Sanctuary's most reliable gatekeepers.

Yet he, it... or perhaps He?

As though merely drawing aside a curtain, he had effortlessly ripped open the Corpse-Limb Prison!

He did not even possess a trace of magic, just like an ordinary person who had never been touched by the extraordinary!

Could it be...

"Y-you are an Angel?! Heavens, what have I been doing..."

Kurt muttered to himself. Looking at the youth whose body showed not the slightest gleam of magic, cold sweat instantly soaked his back as he stammered.

"P-please forgive my presumption, my lord. I never intended to offend your majesty!

"It is only because the corruption I have suffered comes from [Truth]'s thirst for knowledge that I so rudely questioned you..."

Well, listen to those refined words.

It seemed this guy was genuinely terrified.

But... an Angel?

Seeing Kurt's expression change so abruptly, Ron raised an eyebrow.

"Why would you think that?"

If Kurt had not been a Sequence 9 "Apprentice" of the [Truth] pathway, perhaps he truly would not have recognized it.

But as a Beyonder of the [Truth] sequence, even though he was merely Sequence 9, he knew more secrets than Beyonders of other sequences—secrets ordinary people could scarcely learn.

Bearing extraordinary characteristics meant accepting corruption. The higher the sequence, the heavier the corruption; the mutations brought by the extraordinary would make one increasingly less human.

Yet at the peak of the extraordinary sequences, there were Beyonders who no longer displayed signs of corruption. Like the youth before him, they appeared plain and unremarkable, yet possessed incomparably terrifying power.

It was said that They had gathered all extraordinary power within Themselves and completely transcended the shackles of humanity. They were known as—

[Angel]!

At the thought, Kurt trembled like a leaf and hurriedly explained.

"Because only an existence like you, one who has gathered all extraordinary power within yourself and completely transcended humanity's shackles, can be called an Angel!"

So it was because [Fantasy Dissolution] had erased all the magic...

In his eyes, this was gathering all extraordinary power within oneself—the form only so-called "Angels" could attain?

Then I should make good use of this...

Thoughtfully, Ron tapped the manual and switched to [Ashes of the Age of Gods], then suddenly asked.

"Do I still look like an Angel now?"

The next moment, Kurt discovered in astonishment that a faint gleam of magic had appeared around the youth...

Now, he looked like an obviously feeble mortal—utterly ordinary, without the slightest trace of anything extraordinary.

Could it be... this one was deliberately disguising himself as an ordinary person?

"Your disguise is flawless!" Having figured it out, Kurt hurriedly flattered him. "As you are now, you are no different from an ordinary person who has never become a Beyonder!"

"Ah, thank you for the reminder. I suppose I should find a way to repay you."

Ron revealed a gentle smile and quietly switched back to [Fantasy Dissolution]. The faint gleam of magic around him vanished in an instant.

He once again became as he had been before, someone who had gathered all extraordinary power within himself, with no magical radiance at all.

"Out of gratitude, within the limits of what I permit, I can hear your request—you may regard this as a transaction."

Though he said that, "I can hear your request" was merely rhetoric meant to stir the heart.

Ron naturally had no idea whether Kurt had anything he desperately needed to beg him for, nor did he think there was much he could do to help him. He only knew one thing—

This sole conscious prisoner was his first stepping stone toward understanding this world.

And Ron was now an "Angel" fully capable of earning reverence. His favor would be enough to awaken Kurt's greed and make him open his heart!

With that thought, Ron spoke gently and let out a soft laugh.

"I imagine there are things you absolutely must do, things for which you need my help... am I right?"

The youth's words were gentle, but to Kurt, they sounded exceptionally lofty and clearly brooked no refusal.

This was not a transaction.

It was an order.

Kurt's expression stiffened as he instinctively touched the letter hidden in his clothes.

Something I absolutely must do... Had he truly discovered it?

The secret mission he had hidden ever since being imprisoned, waiting for a chance to complete it, had been seen through so easily.

He closed his eyes and felt the stabbing pain from his ankle, gradually calming himself.

Calm down, Kurt, calm down. This is not a bad thing.

For a sacrifice locked in a prison cell, this transaction bestowed upon you by my lord is already your final chance!

You have to seize it!

He took a deep breath, suppressing the heart that was nearly leaping from his throat, and spoke in a slightly trembling voice.

"Yes, my lord, I truly do need your help..."

As he spoke, he swallowed.

"But... what is the price?"

"The price?"

There are plenty of things I want, but what can a prisoner like you possibly offer?

Ron inwardly grumbled. He casually looked Kurt over and said offhandedly, "The cross, I suppose. Yes, it is quite nice."

Then he gave a soft laugh. "After all... it represents your 'faith,' doesn't it?"

The cross?

Kurt was somewhat stunned. He had not expected there to actually be compensation on his person that an Angel would care about...

But seeing the youth's unconcerned expression, Kurt realized something was wrong.

He understood the youth's implication.

What this lord wanted was not this tiny ornament at all...

It was the faith it represented!

The only thing He cared about in Kurt was nothing more than his faith!

At that thought, cold sweat seeped down Kurt's back.

Using faith as a bargaining chip in a transaction was simply blasphemy!

Abandoning the Society and placing faith in an unknown Angel... Was this danger, or opportunity?

Kurt could not say.

But he knew one thing—

If he did not accept this Angel's transaction, he would truly have no further chance to escape this cold prison...

As long as he could survive, it did not matter who it was. Kurt would not begrudge anyone his faith!

With that thought, Kurt drew a deep breath and made his decision.

"I am Kurt Mendes, a member of the Truth Society and a messenger."

He did not dare look at the youth's face. Lowering his head, he said,

"The Society gave me a mission: deliver this letter to Scorched Earth Sanctuary and give it to the nun at the church, Miss Idrila, known as the Evening Bell Saint."

"But before I arrived, she had already been placed under house arrest, confined to the top of the tower...

"I found her whereabouts and was preparing to deliver the letter when I was gravely wounded by the War Puppet guarding the tower top, an extraordinary creature comparable to a Sequence 8 Beyonder. In the end, I fell into the hands of the Flame-Chasing Knights."

A War Puppet?

Ron sharply caught the key point in Kurt's words.

An extraordinary creature comparable to a Sequence 8 Beyonder...

If he could kill it, what sort of setting would he obtain?

Kurt did not notice Ron's contemplation. He pulled the book-page cross from around his neck, then took a crumpled, bloodstained letter from his clothes and respectfully offered them both.

"So, my request is that you deliver this letter into Idrila's hands and tell her..."

He fell silent for a moment, his tone becoming solemn.

"The Society is where she can truly be accepted."

It seemed my performance really did resemble an Angel.

Ron blinked and quietly accepted the cross and the bloodstained letter.

What a successful [Acting] and [Deception]...

He could not help curling his lips, but remembering that Kurt was still in front of him, he restrained himself and maintained that tranquil, detached appearance.

But the next moment, Ron suddenly felt the magic book in his clothes turn scorching hot again.

Hot? Wait, could it be...

He seemingly opened the magic book casually, placing the letter and cross inside it for safekeeping, but he covertly glanced at the words within—

Sure enough, another line of text on the formula had lit up.

It was precisely the consecrated item—the only main ingredient Ron had been unable to find in Ideal City!

Could it be this cross?

He inspected it briefly, only to find that it was not.

The magic book showed no reaction to the cross's presence. Instead, it was the crumpled letter that caused the potion formula to glow...

More precisely, it was not the letter itself, but a piece of wax seal adhered to its envelope, marked with a book-page pattern, that had triggered the magic book's reaction!

Even the wax seal on this letter was a consecrated item...

Looking at the crumpled, bloodstained letter in his hand, Ron could not help feeling surprised.

He had not expected his cheap cellmate to be hiding such a significant secret.

He had only wanted to extract information about this prison from Kurt and gain a basic understanding of the world along the way. He had not expected to obtain this clearly extraordinary secret letter as well...

If Ron were playing a game, would this not be like receiving a secret side quest?

Unfortunately, he had no chance to meet that "Evening Bell Saint" this time.

The damage to [Fantasy Dissolution]'s properties had been steadily worsening during his conversation with Kurt, and it had now reached 99%.

With only 1% durability remaining, the setting was already on the verge of collapse. Ron suspected that [Fantasy Dissolution] no longer had enough durability even to let him open this secret letter, much less explore this prison and head to the top of the tower to defeat that War Puppet.

For now, Ron could only return to Ideal City and wait for the setting to be repaired before trying to explore this era again.

He tucked the magic book back into his clothes and nodded at Kurt.

"I'll tell her."

Then he turned, preparing to leave.

At that moment, an obviously panicked voice came from behind him.

"M-My lord, a mere trinket is far from enough to repay your grace. I still need to offer you—"

The instant Ron had taken out the magic book, Kurt's spirituality had gone wild, filling him with endless longing and greed for the book.

This was a desire on the supernatural level, a yearning originating from the pathway itself!

A book... knowledge... Could this be a high-ranking supernatural item of the [Truth] pathway?!

A storm surged through Kurt's heart. He had considered many possibilities, but he had never imagined that Ron might be an [Truth] pathway "Angel"—

That meant even a sliver of favor from his gaze might allow Kurt to touch a realm he had never dared imagine before!

Sequence 8? Sequence 7? Or even...

He desperately suppressed his agitation and desire, staring at Ron with extreme nervousness, faint expectation showing in his eyes.

"May I offer you my humble faith? If so, please bestow upon me your honored name..."

Witnessing an Angel reveal a miracle was already an immense honor. If he could also learn the Angel's honored name, make offerings and pray to him in ordinary times, then he would have an even greater chance of receiving the Angel's blessing.

There were records of such matters in the society's history as well.

Kurt wanted to become one of those fortunate people and receive an Angel's blessing.

But Ron halted.

An honored name?

Where am I supposed to make something like that up?

He fell silent for a moment, then spoke slowly in a low voice.

"Now is not the time. You... must continue waiting."

Having said that, Ron ignored Kurt, who had become terrified by his cryptic words, and immediately tapped the handbook's light screen, selecting [Enter World Save].

[Current World Saves—Superpowered Era, Potion Era (Loaded)]

[World Save "Superpowered Era" selected. Entering world...]

Kurt's terrified expression froze, becoming like a statue in stopped time.

Apparently... after choosing to load another World Save, time in this world would stop. Ron could return at any time and continue exploring it.

His vision went dark for an instant. Then the soft glow of the setting sun poured down, and the cold prison before him was replaced by a cramped alley amid Ideal City's forest of steel.

Not far away, the sinister and grotesque old magician in robes hunched over, watching Ron with the cold, venomous gaze of a snake.

The frail Corpse Shell, its skin bluish-purple and limbs festering, shrieked hoarsely as the chilly green light in its throat gradually faded.

This was the desperate situation from not long ago. The mysterious old magician had used the grand magic recorded in the Forbidden Codex to summon the Corpse Shell, coming within a single step of grinding Ron to dust—

Yet now, Ron felt nothing but nostalgia and relief.

After all... compared with the Corpse Shells and cages in that prison, this supernatural creature the old magician had risked his life to summon with some forbidden technique was practically "pocket-sized and cute."

He had no choice but to play with such a fine thing.

Ron curled his lips, looked at the old magician, who was filled with uncertainty, and opened the handbook to load [Ignorant Servant]. With a soft laugh, as though greeting an old friend after a long separation, he said, "It's been... a long time."