Asmodeus, now recognizing the evolved resolve within Snow, drove his blade into the ground with a thunderous clang. In an instant, the weapon shattered—splitting into five distinct forms. Shadows peeled from his body, each taking one of the manifested blades in hand.
Like a storm unchained, the five shadow selves surged forward, each executing different techniques with terrifying precision.
Snow barely parried the first strike. A single sword slash hurled him backward, tearing apart the earth behind him in a cataclysmic arc that reshaped the entire battlefield.
Before he could recover, another shadow appeared behind him—its palm surging with a spiraling orb of pure mana. It struck Snow's back with brutal force, launching him skyward as he coughed up blood. Dazed midair, he didn't have time to react before a second projectile met him above, slamming him down with even greater force.
The impact split the earth like a broken mirror, shaking the region. Smoke and dust swallowed the field in a thick haze—only to be instantly cleared by a spear-like projectile that followed, piercing directly through Snow's abdomen and nailing him to the shattered ground.
From within the fading smoke, a younger version of Asmodeus emerged—the very shadow that had impaled him. Without hesitation, he yanked the sword out from Snow's body. Then, with a smooth, chilling motion, he brought it down—cleaving off Snow's arm. The force split the ground beneath them, the crack spreading like an earthquake.
Snow's scream of agony tore through the air, only to be muffled by a barrage of punches from another shadow. The final blow sent him skidding across the battlefield like a ragdoll.
All five shadows regrouped, standing ominously before the crumpled, broken figure of Snow—who now could neither move nor rise. His breath was shallow, his aura fading.
A looming presence darkened the sky above him. From within the shadow, Asmodeus stepped forward, towering over Snow's barely conscious body.
"|/ Your struggle was beautiful. /|" he said, voice calm—almost reverent.
Then, he stomped on Snow's chest.
A sickening crunch followed. A gaping hole burst open where Snow's heart once beat.
"NO!!!" Ruciel's cry ripped through the battlefield. She dashed forward with frantic desperation.
But Snow... Snow didn't scream.
Though the pain was immeasurable, the shock hollowed him out from within. He simply lay there, eyes vacant—accepting his end.
Ruciel took him in her arms, trembling as she held his lifeless, mangled body. Tears streamed down her face. She called his name again and again—but he did not answer.
Asmodeus, uncaring, turned his back and began to walk away.
"|/ I shall lay in wait... for the next soul brave enough to challenge me. /|"
His shadows dissipated, merging back into his body. The fragments of his sword flew back to him, reforming as he dragged the blade behind him, its tip scraping the ground with a haunting echo.
DING
==========================
YOUR HEALTH HAS DROPPED BELOW 1%
==========================
DING!
==========================
PATHFINDER HAS DETECTED AN ERROR IN THE CALCULATED PATH
==========================
DING
==========================
USER STATUS: DECEASED
==========================
DING
==========================
INITIALIZING PATH RECALIBRATION...
==========================
DING
==========================
CALIBRATION COUNTDOWN: 00:10
==========================
DING
==========================
CALIBRATION COMPLETED
==========================
DING
==========================
A NEW PATHWAY HAS BEEN AMENDED BY PATHFINDER
==========================
DING
==========================
DO YOU WISH TO WALK THIS PATHWAY?
[ YES / NO ]
=========================
DING
=========================
THE SYSTEM HAS CHOSEN FOR THE USER WHO IS ABOUT TO LOSE HIS SOUL
=========================
DING
=========================
AN APPEAL FROM AN ENTITY BEYOND TIME AND SPACE HAS BEEN GRANTED
=========================
DING
=========================
USER HEALTH RESTORED TO 5%
=========================
DING
=========================
PATHWAY BETWEEN SOUL AND BODY: LINKED
=========================
DING
=========================
USER STATUS: SUBCONSCIOUSLY AWAKENED
=========================
DING
=========================
ALL AVAILABLE SKILLS WILL NOW BE ACTIVATED TO END THE BATTLE
=========================
A storm of white light erupted from Snow's battered body.
Once still and lifeless, his form now radiated with a ghostly brilliance. His hollow chest still bore the mark of Asmodeus's final blow, but his eyes—once dim—sparked back to life.
He rose to his feet. Not fully alive. Not quite dead. A phantom returned by the system's will.
Ruciel, still kneeling beside him, could only stare in disbelief. Her breath caught in her throat. She dared not move.
Then it happened.
The severed hand that had clutched the Chaos Moon Blade twitched—then reattached itself to his arm, as if pulled by fate.
Snow, glowing like a dying star reigniting, stood once more.
And the battlefield held its breath.
"|/ Thou should have been dead... or is this thy final attempt to struggle? /|" Asmodeus spoke, his voice calm, yet layered with curiosity and contempt.
He understood what Snow was attempting—his posture gave it away. Feet grounded in a perfect stance, right leg forward, left drawn back, Snow held the Chaos Moon Blade high above his head with both hands. A stance meant for one thing—a singular, ultimate strike.
DING
=========================
PATHFINDER HAS ACTIVATED THE SKILL: MASTER OF 10,000 BLADES
=========================
DING
=========================
PATHFINDER HAS FORCEFULLY AWAKENED THE CHAOS MOON BLADE
=========================
DING
=========================
CHAOS MOON BLADE HAS BEGUN: CRESCENT DESCENT
=========================
A deep, resonant bell tolled across the battlefield—each strike of the gong pulling radiant light from the shattered lands, drawing it into Snow's blade like threads of fate being spun.
"|/ A Crescent Descent... /|" Asmodeus mused.
Then, with a rare solemnity, he added,
"|/ Then I shall respect your resolve... and respond in kind. /|"
His black armor cracked, then exploded outward in shards of energy, spiraling into his sword. It began to grow, layer by layer, until it became a greatsword of overwhelming power. Despite his slender frame, Asmodeus raised the massive blade with ease and mimicked Snow's stance—both warriors now mirrored each other.
And then, Asmodeus consumed the battlefield.
Light vanished, devoured in an instant. The sky dimmed into a vacuum of pure darkness. From that abyss, a new power answered Asmodeus's call—the dark itself cloaking him in a shell of divine void.
Still, amidst it all, Snow's fading awareness reached out. With a small motion of his hand, a shimmering barrier formed around Ruciel, shielding her from what was to come.
And in the next breath—they struck.
At the very same moment, both blades fell.
The impact was not a sound. It was silence—a silence so absolute, it shattered reality itself.
A blinding flash swallowed everything. The earth cracked open like glass under divine pressure. The sky tore. Time warped. The very existence of the battlefield ceased.
Hours passed, or perhaps only seconds. In the aftermath of it all, silence returned once more.
There stood Snow.
His form, frozen in time, preserved in a perfect stance—the Crescent Descent executed in its purest form. His upper torso and head remained untouched, but the rest of his body had turned to crystal ice, paralyzed by the cost of channeling such immense power.
Before him, the devastation was absolute.
The land in front of him was a frozen graveyard—cut clean by his strike, reduced to a glacial wasteland. Behind him, where he once stood, was scorched and bare, riddled with cracks. No life. No death. Only emptiness.
From the whitened fog, a voice echoed.
"|/ Thou worth exceeded my expectation, mortal. /|"
Asmodeus emerged, walking slowly past Snow. He turned back, revealing cracks spider-webbing across his entire body. Despite the damage, he smiled faintly—a rare, genuine gesture.
"|/ You have... my acknowledgment. /|"
He extended a small totem toward Snow, who could only watch with fading breath.
"|/ May you become worthy of our Lord's love. /|" he said.
Asmodeus's body began to unravel, hair-like strands rising into the air as his essence dissipated. One final message left his lips.
"|/ Please... look after Excalib, on my behalf. /|"
And then, he was gone.
Where he stood, embedded into the floor, lay a single sword—its blade split in color. One side black, the other white, meeting in a perfect line down the center. Excalib, the blade of twilight balance.
DING
========================
CONGRATULATIONS!!!
========================
DING
========================
YOU HAVE SUCCESSFULLY CLEARED THE 5TH FLOOR
========================
DING
========================
YOU HAVE LEVELED UP ×5
========================
DING
========================
REWARDS HAVE BEEN AUTOMATICALLY STORED IN INVENTORY
========================
DING
========================
PATHFINDER HAS RESEALED ALL TEMPORARY ATTRIBUTES
========================
/// THAT WAS A SPLENDID MOVE /// —CHAOS MOON complimented.
DING
========================
CHAOS MOON BLADE USAGE HAS EXPIRED
========================
DING
========================
CHAOS CRESCENT DESCENT HAS BEEN REVOKED
========================
DING
========================
CURRENT HEALTH: 1%
========================
DING
========================
DUNGEON ANOMALY DETECTED
========================
DING
========================
FLOORS 6–11 UNDETECTABLE. MASSIVE DESTRUCTION RECORDED
========================
DING
========================
REWARDS FROM DESTROYED FLOORS HAVE BEEN CALCULATED AND AWARDED
========================
DING
========================
TELEPORTATION TO TEMPLE OF UKRIS INITIATED
========================
DING
========================
COUNTDOWN TO TELEPORTATION: 00:29:56
========================
The frozen shell around Snow began to crack, flaking off piece by piece. The sword gripped in his hand shattered—its strength spent, its power gone.
His body trembled.
Gritting his teeth, Snow forced himself to reach into his inventory. He pulled out a single potion—one he had originally kept for Ruciel. With trembling hands, he drank it all.
His body began to mend. Skin healed, bones reset. But the hollow cavity in his chest... remained.
DING
=======================
CURRENT HEALTH: 1%DINGBODY ABNORMALITY DETECTED
=======================
DING
=======================
PATHFINDER ADVISES SEEKING A CURE AT THE TEMPLE OF UKRIS
=======================
The flood of notifications overwhelmed him. He was alive—but barely. Weakened. Drained. Hollowed.
And yet, his eyes fell upon Excalib, the blade left behind.
It stood, embedded in the ground, humming with latent power. The dual-colored blade shimmered—neither dark nor light, but a perfect balance of both.
Snow stepped toward it, confusion and curiosity swirling in his eyes.
Why would Asmodeus entrust this to him?
Just then, a new screen appeared—glowing with divine radiance.
DING
==========================
PATHFINDER HAS FOUND AN EGO
WOULD YOU LIKE TO CLAIM IT?
YES / NO
==========================
Snow stared at the glowing screen hovering before him. His body was still battered, chest hollow, soul drained—but the words on the screen stirred something inside him.
Without hesitation, he reached forward and pressed YES.
DING
==========================
YOU ARE THE FIRST TO ACQUIRE AN EGO TWICE
==========================
DING
==========================
THE EGO HAS FOUND A FAMILIAR SCENT ON YOU
==========================
DING
==========================
THE EGO WISHES TO BE GIVEN A NAME
==========================
Snow furrowed his brow, glancing down at the blade before him—Excalib, now pulsing gently in the ground. Why did it feel... alive? Why did it request a name?
He murmured to himself, thinking of the strange dungeon, of the fusion of light and shadow he had just witnessed, and of the final smile on Asmodeus's face.
"...Star and light... perhaps... Starlight," he whispered.
DING
==========================
YOU HAVE NAMED THE EGO: STARLIGHT
==========================
DING
==========================
STARLIGHT IS PLEASED BYTHE NEW NAME
==========================
In response, the sword pulsed brightly. Then, it began to change.
Before Snow's stunned eyes, the blade broke apart into two glowing fragments—one shimmering with light, the other with darkness. They spiraled around him, then fused to his body.
One formed into a sleek coat, shirt, pants, and boots—all laced with mystic threads that radiated with both dawn and dusk. The other—an earring—latched gently onto his left ear, humming with presence.
Snow stood motionless, stunned. For the first time since his hollowing, his chest was no longer exposed. His body was whole, or at least... hidden.
He exhaled slowly, relief softening his eyes.
But then, something tugged at his memory.
His gaze turned—and in the distance, partially hidden by the warped battlefield, was a frozen dome.
His heart skipped.
"Ruciel..."
Snow sprinted.
He reached the dome and pressed his hand against it. It shimmered for a moment, then cracked like thin glass. The barrier fell apart—and there, curled in the center, was Ruciel.
She was crying, knees drawn to her chest, trembling in the aftermath of the cataclysm.
"...Scarlet," Snow whispered.
Her eyes widened. She looked up, disbelieving. "S...Snow...?"
She flung herself into his arms, embracing him tightly.
Tears streamed from her eyes, but they were no longer from sorrow. They talked quietly as they sat together, recovering from everything they had endured.
Snow smiled weakly. "You survived. I'm glad."
Ruciel nodded, and then looked up with confusion as Snow summoned his drones. Only one returned.
It hovered quietly at his side—damaged, flickering—and displayed no footage, no records. Everything from the moment they entered the dungeon had been erased.
Snow sighed in quiet relief. "Good... I didn't want the world to see me like that."
DING
==========================
COUNTDOWN TO TELEPORTATION
00:00:01
==========================
DING
==========================
YOU SHALL NOW BE TELEPORTED TO THE TEMPLE OF UKRIS
==========================
Light enveloped them both.
A pulse. A blink. And then—they were gone.
The scene shifted to a wide open field. At its center stood a circular temple, ancient yet majestic. Waterfalls cascaded around it, flowing from a translucent source that shimmered like liquid crystal.
At the temple's center was a stone podium.
Before it sat a colossal statue—impaled by countless blades. Swords of all shapes and sizes jutted from its body, frozen in time. Blood-like liquid—clear and radiant—dripped endlessly from its wounds and formed the surrounding waterfalls.
Snow stood in silence, absorbing the sheer weight of what he was seeing. Something about the statue felt... wrong. Or rather, too real. Not just a carving. Not just stone. It felt like it was once alive.
Around the platform were four circular spots, each engraved with symbols. Snow and Ruciel exchanged glances. No words were needed—they both knew.
They each brought out the totems they had gathered.
One by one, they placed them in the marked circles. As Snow placed the final totem—
the world broke apart.
In an instant, space around him warped. Ruciel vanished from sight. The temple remained, but its essence shifted. The air turned heavy, otherworldly. Time froze.
Snow now stood alone.
And sitting before him, resting his cheek against his fist with an almost casual demeanor, was the very statue—alive.
The figure opened his mouth and spoke with a voice that echoed through the soul.
"//You are not Snow Mirrorfelt.//"
Snow's breath caught in his throat.
"...I am Snow Quincy," he replied, cautiously.
The figure's eyes gleamed. "//Interesting... You both share similar soul origin. Perhaps you...//"
He paused.
Then his eyes flashed again, as if he had scanned deep into Snow's existence.
"//Ah. So that is how it is.//"
Snow stepped back slightly, tension rising. "Who are you... if I may ask?"
The figure smiled faintly.
"//I am the creator of existence... and of those who remember it.//"
"//I am Ukris. Though you lesser forms tend to call me... a god.//"
"...A god?" Snow asked, clearly baffled. "Then... why am I here?"
Ukris's expression darkened, just slightly.
"//Because I had been waiting. Waiting for Mirrorfelt to call upon me.//"
"//But it seems... he has been erased. And what fragments remain... were inherited by you.//"
"So... that's why I'm here?" Snow asked, more confused than before.
Ukris shook his head.
"//I did not bring you here. The one who did... was the PATHFINDER.//"
"//Perhaps it seeks to fulfill the wish I made with its previous master.//"
"...A wish?" Snow repeated under his breath.
Before he could ask more, Ukris stood from his throne. His body shifted—shrinking to a human form, elegant and imposing. He circled Snow slowly, like a scholar studying a rare specimen.
"//You're an odd one,//" he said. "//Even when you noticed the fragments within you... you never once asked where they came from.//"
Snow stiffened.
"Asking questions is a good thing... but not getting the right answers will only mislead oneself," Snow said quietly, eyes narrowed.
Ukris paused—and then smiled.
"//I am impressed.//" His voice carried the weight of ages, yet there was genuine approval in his tone.
"//Mirrorfelt was hot-tempered and rash. You, however... you are his opposite. I see now why the Pathfinder chose you. And it seems you've come this far with the gift I once sent you.//"
Snow tilted his head slightly. "So you're the entity that exists beyond time and space..."
"//Indeed.//" Ukris turned his gaze toward the distant temple's sky.
"//This planet was my creation—my sanctuary—after I completed the greater work: shaping the world into existence.//"
He spoke with a faraway tone now, as if sifting through the ashes of forgotten ages.
"//I lived in peace with my children, and with all lifeforms who still held reverence for me.//"
"...But something went wrong," Snow said, watching him closely.
Ukris nodded, eyes dimming.
"//As my time waned, conflict erupted. War consumed my children. They fought each other... and those who supported them. All for the right to rule what I had built.//"
"So in short," Snow said, crossing his arms, "your children ruined your world in a power struggle to replace you."
"//Precisely.//" Ukris stopped and turned to him, clearly impressed by his quick understanding.
Snow raised a brow. "I hope you're not about to ask me to join this battle or something."
Ukris laughed—a soft, ancient thing.
"//Not at all. That battle ended long ago. All of my children... were slain. By my right hand.//"
"...Asmodeus?" Snow asked, remembering the Knight who fell in that final battle.
"//Indeed.//" Ukris said, a small smile forming at his lips.
Ukris stood now in a form shaped by Snow's perception: a silver-haired man adorned in divine attire. He looked like a deity from legend—flowing robes marked with celestial runes, a golden circlet hovering above his brow. A mantle, black as void and streaked with crimson, hung from his shoulders. Living lion-headed pauldrons guarded his arms. Around his waist hung broken halos and forgotten seals, clinking gently as he moved. Jade vambraces glowed with runes, and his long silver hair flowed like strands of starlight. His eyes—twin suns behind veils of mist—carried the authority of eons.
"//He made sure all challengers to the throne perished,//" Ukris continued. "//Those who couldn't die... fled to other worlds.//"
"Which explains the dimensional instability," Snow murmured. "So that's why dungeons keep appearing."
"//Correct,//" Ukris confirmed as he began to walk behind the colossal chair he had stood from.
"//Come. There's something I must show you.//"
Snow followed without hesitation. Death wasn't something he feared anymore. What truly haunted him was the lingering regret—whether he'd ever get to apologize to his sister.
He was curious. Nothing more.
They stepped beyond the Throne—and the world unraveled.
Snow found himself in a dark, infinite void. Stars, galaxies, and clusters of light floated in the vastness like drifting lanterns. Universes themselves shimmered in the distance, fragile and radiant.
"//This... is all of creation,//" Ukris said solemnly.
"//And because I am dead, it is breaking apart.//"
He raised a hand, and a wave of soft gravity pulsed across the starlit space.
"//Mirrorfelt was the only one who could stop the collapse. But it came at a cost. So... I used a fragment of myself to rewind time and that is what brought us here.//"
Snow frowned. "So you want me to prevent something from happening... right?"
"//You're quick on the uptake,//" Ukris chuckled.
Snow stepped forward. "Alright. What is it? And what's my reward?"
Ukris was silent. He lifted his hand and snapped his fingers.
The stars condensed.
The entire space folded in on itself, swirling into a single point—a miniature black orb in Ukris's hand. Within it sparkled countless specks of light, galaxies trapped in crystal.
It was a dimension in his palm.
"//All you need to do... is defeat Chronos.//"
"//He will appear three years from now, in your time.//"
"Chronos?" Snow asked, brows furrowed. "Who the hell is that?"
"//You will meet his avatar... in six months. When that happens, you will understand all that is to come next.//" Ukris stepped forward, voice grave.
"//But to make sure this timeline does not fall into the same ruin... I will give you everything that remains of me.//"
Snow's eyes widened. "Wait—"
Before he could move, Ukris slammed the orb into Snow's chest.
His hollow chest glowed.
Information—impossibly vast and endless—poured into his mind. His body ignited from within. His nerves burned, muscles twisted, and divine knowledge raged inside him like a storm.
Screens erupted all around him. Notifications flashed too fast to read.
His body broke into light.
"//You... are the one I've been waiting for,//" Ukris's voice echoed, now far away.
"//Live the life you desire... but make sure you are strong enough to kill Chronos.//"
Snow's vision blurred. His consciousness began to fade—but just before everything went black, he saw the true form of Ukris.
He was not a man.
He was a being of pure white light, crowned in flame. His head and hair blazed like ethereal fire, his eyes twin suns of molten gold. He had no mouth, no face—only brilliance. Around his hair hovered a crown, rotating slowly in the void like the rings of a planet.
"//Take care, my child,//" Ukris whispered.
And then—
darkness.
------------------------------------------------
To be continued...